Indecision
by CreativeCorrosion
Summary: This Reylo fic starts just before the ground splits in TFW 'He was around the bed in the blink of an eye - some basic instinct driving his actions as her knees buckled and she began to fall to the floor. His arms came around her of their own volition – one around the shoulders, one under the backs of her knees – as he stopped her descent and lifted her against him.'
1. Chapter 1

She hesitated to deliver the final blow, standing above him with Luke's lightsaber pointed at his heart. He could feel the indecision and hatred rolling off her in waves. Part of her wanted him dead, but another part couldn't bring herself to take his life; not while seeing him bloodied and beaten, not while he was without the mask. There was something about Kylo's mask that hid any and all humanity he had from her, when he wore it she saw him as nothing more than evil, but without it, he was human, and she struggled with the choice of ending that life. His eyes widened at the realization that she could still be unsure after what he'd done; taking her captive, murdering his own father who she seemed to care for deeply among countless other atrocities he'd committed as a Knight of Ren under the influence of Supreme Leader Snoke.

He didn't get much time to marvel at her web of thoughts, though as the earth abruptly began to crumble and shift between them. A large crevice opened in the earth and Rey took that chance to separate herself from him, jumping cleanly onto the other side of the gap, leaving him bloody, yet still alive in the snow. He picked himself up as he watched her disappear through the trees, fresh blood from the wound on his face clouding his vision and pain shooting through his side from the Wookie's bowcaster.

Rey ran through the towering pines and deep snow as fast as she could, retracing the path she and Ren had taken during their battle. The planet was falling apart, and she had to find Fin and get him to safety. Ren's blood led her through the trees until she spotted Fin ahead, still collapsed and unconscious in the snow. She could hear the whir of an aircrafts engine approaching from just beyond the trees and she hoped it was friendly as she raced over to her fallen friend's body. She knelt beside him in the snow, breathing a heavy sigh of relief as she realized he was still alive.

Through the trees now she could tell it was the Millennium Falcon that was approaching, and she breathed another sigh of relief as she began to reach down to lift Fins body from the snow. She had just slipped her hands under his shoulders when her mind went blank and the world went dark, she hadn't even heard the footsteps that approached her from behind.

He couldn't let her escape, Ren thought; he'd already lost her once and he wasn't about to disappoint the supreme leader with another failure. The crevice was large for sure, but he still had enough energy to power his jump with the force and land safely on the other side. He moved as swiftly and quietly through the trees as he could, following her fresh prints that overlapped with his fallen blood. He could feel her and her emotions – relief mainly, that her friend was still alive – as he got closer, but she didn't seem to sense him. He stood behind her watching as she inspected the deserter, feeling her happiness when she spotted his deceased fathers ship through the trees – still, she did not notice him. Too many other thoughts raced through her untrained mind as he quietly took step after step toward her, until he was close enough to touch her. It was when she went to lift the deserters body that he made his move, using the force and her lack of concentration to send her into a deep slumber. He caught her body as she fell backwards, lifting her in his arms and carrying her away from the falcon and towards the extraction unit he knew was waiting for him.


	2. Chapter 2

Kylo Ren sat masked and patient in the corner of a cold and dark room, watching the rise and fall of Rey's chest as she slept, waiting for her to awaken from the force spell he had used on her mind and body as well as the drugs that had been used to maintain her slumber as he recovered from his own injuries. It had been just over a week, and while the scar she'd left on his face had healed, the bowcaster injury still caused him pain when he over exerted himself; lingering damage in the surrounding nerves sending shockwaves of hurt throughout his body.

He had to be ready when she awoke, he would not allow anyone else to deal with her; partly to ensure that she did not escape again, but also because she intrigued him. She who could not sentence to death the man that had killed her friends and countless others. Mercy was a Jedi trait, to disable and not kill whenever possible; but she was no Jedi. This girl was new to the Force and its ways, so new in fact that any decision she had made to spare him came from her and her alone. Disturbed to find himself strangely fascinated with the idea he returned his attention to the unconscious being in the center of the room.

He could feel it now, she had pushed past the spell and the drugs and her sleep was now her own. He contemplated waking her himself when he felt a shift in her emotions. Pain, hurt and loss all flooded through him as he was hit with images of endless sand, an aircraft flying away, and a young girl left alone in the dunes. He felt her tears more than he saw them, and the great loneliness and fright that she felt, being transported to this place in her dreams. A young Rey, he thought as he observed, young and abandoned – not unlike how he felt sometimes. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and was accompanied by the sound of her gasp as she awoke with a start. Her eyes flew open, searching every which way until they locked on him, it didn't take long after that for her mind to swipe the nightmare away, clarity taking over as she realized where she must be.

He decided to remove any doubts she may have had,

"Yes Rey, you're back where you belong." He spoke calmly

"Back where I belong? Are you crazy?" she spit at him as a wave of Deja-vu overcame her. She'd just escaped from his grasp and now, somehow, she was back in it. Cold cement walls glared at her from every angle, a thick metal door set into one of them. The room was not unlike where she had been held on Starkiller base – but she knew they couldn't be there. Of that much she was certain – the resistance had destroyed the First Orders planet - she remembered the ground splitting apart to reveal dark chasms and the heavy tremors that had rocked the ground beneath her as she battled with Ren. So where were they now she wondered as her gaze slowly returned to the pensive mask, studying its chrome colored slits and the hollow black pits where his eyes should be.

"Letting you escape was a mistake that will not happen again and I, personally will make sure of that." He sneered under his mask. "You will submit to the First order, and your power will be for the supreme leader to use as he sees fit."

Rey couldn't believe the position she was in, tightly bound in some cell in the First Orders base when she was sure that she had escaped Ren and was going to save Finn. Finn, she thought – was he still alive? Doubtful, Ren had probably killed him when he captured her again, one more threat eliminated.

"You'll be pleased to know that I left the deserter where I found him, almost dead and freezing in the snow" Ren said, interrupting her thoughts, and alerting her that he'd been in her mind this entire time.

"Stay out of my head!" she replied angrily, but she couldn't help the relief that flooded over her at the news that Finn might still be alive. She had seen the Millennium Falcon through the trees, so she could only hope that Chewie had found Finn after she'd been taken, but that thought had her wondering; if she'd seen the Falcon, there's no way Ren would have missed it – so he knew that help was coming for Finn, yet he chose to let him live anyway, but why?

Kylo continued to watch her as she disappeared inside herself, he tried to see what she was thinking, but this time it was obvious that she was guarding her thoughts from him. He wondered what could have her so absorbed in her own mind when her enemy stood but a few feet away from her, but he could not fathom it. It was then that she returned her eyes to him and with a piercing stare she asked,

"What do you want with me?"

"I already told you," he replied, "you will become a tool for the first order and the supreme leader to use as they see fit." Even as he said the words, he felt uncomfortable. Describing her as a tool felt like he was describing himself. After all, if he succeeded in training her and converting her to the dark side of the force, then there wouldn't be much difference between them. But, he assured himself, he was the supreme leaders apprentice – he would never, could never be a tool, surely?

A smirk grew on her face as she interrupted his inner rambling, "You're worried that you're the tool, that you have no greater meaning than to carry out the demands of your so called supreme leader." Her smirk grew wider as she watched the shock register in his eyes as he realized that he'd allowed her into his thoughts. It was too perfect a replay of the last time he interrogated her like this, dropping his guard and allowing her to see his insecurity when measured up to his grandfather – when compared to Darth Vader. He instantly regretted not warding himself from her mental curiosity for the second time – it was inexcusable – he'd known she could do it, yet it didn't even begin to register in his mind that she'd try such a move again.

Anger flared up in him at her disobedience- she lay there, shackled at the hands and feet, completely defenseless and yet she was bold enough to provoke him – well it worked. He never really had control over his temper and there were many walls and pieces of machinery that had been run through with his saber that could attest to that. He stalked up to her, slamming a gloved hand on either side face so he could lean in close and whispered,

"You will learn to be obedient or you will suffer by my hands". He said those words with no emotion, only a cold and uncaring tone yet she still stared directly back at the pits in his mask where his eyes would be. She was unflinching and defiant, unwilling to back down or concede.

"I once called you a creature in a mask, but I think it would be more appropriate to call you a coward." She spoke in a mocking tone as she sneered at him. "You're a coward Kylo Ren, hiding behind a mask, hoping it will intimidate your enemies for you, but it won't work on me." Rey told him angrily.

He wasn't a coward, and he wouldn't let her call him one so just like before he reached up and removed his helm, placing it on the small table in the room. "Are you satisfied Rey?" he asked her as he moved closer again. This time though, she wouldn't meet his eyes, and did all she could to keep from looking at him.

Part of her instantly regretted goading him because she really didn't want to see Kylo Ren without the mask, because, without it she couldn't deny that he was like her, human. It didn't seem like he was going to give her a choice though, as he slid his gloved hand under her chin and forced her face to meet his. The first thing she saw was the scar that ran from his left eyebrow to the right corner of his mouth – the scar that she had given him. Part of her regretted not finishing him off and another part knew that she wouldn't have been able to do it, something about him still seemed human and she couldn't snuff that out – no matter how much she hated him.

It had come as a shock to hear Han refer to the now unmasked man as his son and it felt like she was being torn to shreds as she watched Ren pierce his father's chest with that ruby colored three-pronged lightsaber. What affected her most in that moment though was the look of utter fear, loss and remorse on Ren's face as he crumpled to the floor – the bowcaster wound only helping his descent go faster. She could see it on his face – that he immediately regretted his actions, and even though he'd taken away the only person who'd ever acted like a father to her – for however brief a time it may have been – she still couldn't escape the raw realization that he was human. Somewhere underneath the cold and callous exterior of Kylo Ren was someone else – someone who felt, who hurt and who knew loss.

Ren's eyes were unflinching as he stared at her and she could feel his conscious trying to reach into her mind, but she wouldn't allow that – not anymore. "You're a curious creature indeed, so new to the force yet able to keep me out when you really want to." He muttered. He hadn't really meant to give her a compliment but even he had to admit that keeping him out of her head was an impressive feat indeed, especially for one with no training – just raw potential.

With that he stooped down to the table and replaced his helmet on his head of dark hair before striding to the metal door and punching a series of codes in the pad. He was being a lot more careful with her security now and as such no-one but him would be allowed into her room alone. He hadn't expected her to be able to bend the will of others before, but he would not make the same mistake twice. This time she wouldn't be able to use the force to escape, he would make sure of that.

"Where are you going?" she asked almost timidly – so uncharacteristic for this scavenger girl who grew up alone in the deserts of Jakku that she winced internally. Hating that she sounded weak and almost frightened at the prospect of being abandoned again.

He smirked a little at that, "Don't fret Rey, I'll be back."


	3. Chapter 3

Pompous asshole, she thought to herself at those parting words. As if she'd worry at his absence, more like be relieved. It gave her time to search her surroundings, which, upon doing so, lent her no useful information. Aside from the small table and chair that Ren had sat in, the room was bare – the only other 'furniture' being the contraption she was bound to. The restraints were tight and irritated her skin when she pulled at them, but she kept at it anyway, having nothing better to do. She lived on Jakku, a never-ending desert where every day consisted of a monotonous scavenging routine pulling parts out of fallen ships, scrubbing them clean and turning them in to Unkar Plutt in exchange for meager rations – she could handle a day spent fighting against the cold iron bands that kept her strapped down.

Ren left her room irritated. He'd put on an overconfident air but was frustrated that all he'd managed with her was mindless banter. He couldn't influence her mind, yet Snoke wanted her, so somehow, he'd have to make her bend to his will, to see things his way – without the power of the force.

He returned to his room for the night, removed his mask and lay down on the sheets of his bed. Normally he would show his face to no one, but for Rey he somehow felt the need to prove her wrong about his cowardice, and it was beginning to be a regular thing – her tempting him to take his mask off. Oddly enough he didn't really feel uncomfortable around her, not that wearing the helm was about confidence – it was more about intimidation and power – not to mention the disconnect from other, weaker humans. But in her presence, it felt somewhat normal without it on. He pondered that idea for a moment before he closed his eyes and allowed sleep to take him.

Fear. Sadness. Loneliness. Those emotions flooded his mind suddenly and jolted him awake in a cold sweat. He looked around frantically even though he knew where they had come from – Rey. The scavenger girl's emotions were strong enough to reach him despite the distance that separated them. He figured it was a nightmare like he had witnessed earlier, but even after waiting it didn't seem like it would subside, so he quickly dressed himself and left his room – he didn't even think to grab his mask.

Kylo Ren walked swiftly down the halls of the First Order base, annoyance ticking in his brain, until he reached the holding cell, at which point he promptly entered the unlock codes and strode into the room. Rey was still struggling where she lay, pulling against her bindings as she slept, silent tears streaming down her face. All feelings of aggravation went out the window then, figuratively of course considering the only thing adoring these walls were the harsh lamps that were set into the stone to provide illumination. He could feel her sadness wash through him, how abandoned and lonely she felt, and it was killing him. He couldn't help but sympathise - he too felt abandoned when his own parents had sent him away to learn how to control his abilities. But this girl, it was even worse, she had no one – at least he'd had his uncle Luke, not that he'd ever given him much thought. There was something about being tossed aside by ones' own parents that made it glaringly difficult to accept the social comforts of another, especially when that other only ever seemed interested in controlling him and what he was capable of.

No part of him had willingly tried to connect with her mind yet somehow tuning her out was impossible; as if they were both set to the same Force frequency. He needed the pain he was feeling from her to end, to stop reminding him of his own origins - so he gently placed a gloved hand on either side of her face and, to his own chagrin, quietly but forcefully spoke her name,

"Rey, it's okay, Rey, wake up now." He used as much of the force to influence her mind along with his words as he could and, after a few tries her shaking finally calmed down enough for her to open her eyes; dark eyelashes fluttering against tanned and freckled skin. He felt only a short relief before a wave of anger hit him.

"What do you think you're doing!" Rey screamed in his face, thoroughly unnerved, and he realized that he was still holding hers between his hands. He quickly let go and took a step back from her – Rey could've sworn she saw a brief look of hurt cross his uncovered face before it settled into an impassive stare that might as well of been his mask.

"You don't have to scream at me," a short pause and "I was only trying to calm you down." That granted him a puzzled look from her, so he chose to explain. "Your nightmare. I could feel it and you were keeping me awake." He said it like this was the most natural thing in the world – the fact that he could tell just how bad her dreams had been – but the flicker of some emotion in his eyes and the uncomfortable twitch of his jaw told a different story.

"Oh." Was all she responded with as her anger dissipated, and her face fell, he didn't expect to hear it but the next words she spoke were, "thank you." A careful pink blush creeping over her cheekbones as she regretted her outburst and spike of anger. There'd never been anyone to chase the nightmares away before, no one to fight the harrowing dreams and visions that plagued her every night for years – it elicited a gratefulness from her that she was loathe to admit to her captor, but it passed over her lips anyway.

He felt like he had to look twice to confirm that those words had actually come out of her mouth; gratitude was one thing he didn't think he'd ever receive from her.

The look on his face when she thanked him was almost comical, eyes semi wide and disbelieving, but she forced any laughter down. He stared at her for a few moments more before his brown eyes trailed down her arms and locked on her wrists. They were bruised and bloody from her pulling at her restraints all day, the rough material cutting into her flesh as she tried to break them – but to not avail.

He didn't say anything as he left the room, turning on his heel and silently locking the door behind him as if nothing had happened.


	4. Chapter 4

Rey was more than a little confused about how he treated her now. Sure, he'd only woken her up so he could sleep, right? But his eyes when he looked at her wrists didn't seem all that cold, it almost seemed like he was lost in thought – concentrating on what he was seeing for some reason. To her it seemed obvious why her wrists and ankles were bleeding and to be honest she didn't think he could care less - but something about the way he'd looked at her had her doubting herself. Those eyes, the set of his features – it reminded her of the last time she was in this position; when she couldn't find a hint of malice or hate – only an unexpected gentleness in the gaze that returned her own.

He'd been, not nice exactly, but certainly not what she'd expected to find under the mask. Honest – telling her the truth about those she'd left behind instead of using it as leverage for her cooperation; for all she knew, her friends- Finn, Chewie, Han – a stab of raw pain in her gut at the thought of him – could have been captured along with her. Ren could've lied – said that their fate rested in her hands, that all she had to do was give up the map – but he didn't.

There was his reluctance to cause her more pain – that he wasn't happy about having to root the truth out of her mind – his assurance that he would be as gentle as possible. At the time, she'd brushed it off as some sort of sick tactic to lower her guard – his attempt to probe her mind had, after all, reduced her to tears. But then, why did he sound almost…compassionate? When he spoke of her island and the gem colored oceans that surrounded her minds only place of refuge – her only escape from the drowning loneliness and vast emptiness of Jakku. He'd invaded her most private dreams and desires, but instead of contempt she was met with what felt like, understanding – recognition even. Gone was any façade she had of being strong and unshakeable – at least in his eyes – yet she wasn't angry as she thought she should be. It was like a burden had been lifted off her shoulders, now that there was someone who knew the pain she felt, someone who saw her for what she was – even if that person was Kylo Ren.

Still, it shook her to see how easily his mood and actions could change. One-minute questioning her about BB-8, the next – oddly curious about where she came from – how she was "just a scavenger." That hurt, she had to admit; seeing the surprise on his face when he'd made that realization. It was, embarrassing to say the least – not being able to move or turn away when he discovered that she was just some abandoned girl from Jakku, living day to day salvaging tech and equipment just to survive. The only home she ever knew, an abandoned AT-AT walker – the only social interaction she'd had was with Unkar Plutt and the occasional droid.

He'd been quick to change the subject after that statement though, as if he knew that she'd been embarrassed; and maybe he did know. Maybe he'd actually been trying to consider her feelings.

Unable to come up with a plausible explanation for his seemingly sudden change in attitude, she shifted around as much as she could and tried to settle herself back into sleep. Her breathing had just begun to slow again when the audible sound of beeps from the keypad echoed through her room once more. _What is it this time?_ She thought to herself as she waited apprehensively to see who would enter the room, and to her surprise, it was Ren; back again, but this time he carried a small white cloth case with him.

She peered at his face and asked, "what are you doing?" with a hint of suspicion in her voice – eyes searching for any clue as to his intentions.

He remained silent as he approached her, clearly, he was a man of few words. There wasn't really anything she could do about it though, so she chose to lay still and not resist – the lesions from the restraints were causing a stinging pain that wasn't exactly enjoyable.

Her eyes widened with wonder, Ren noticed as he slowly began to undo one of the restraints holding her wrists down, careful not to touch the raw skin underneath. She didn't ask anymore questions, or try to fight him off – he noted with interest – as he opened the case he had brought back with him. Pulling out an ointment and bandages he silently began to treat the wounds that she had inflicted upon herself, rebinding her wrist when he was done and then repeating the same on the other side as well as for her ankles.

Surprised by the gentle care he took as he worked, Rey found herself relaxing into his touch – the careful ministrations easing her discomfort and eliminating any misgivings she may have had about his presence.

He wasn't exactly skilled at first aid by any means, but he could tell the cuts were causing her pain and irritation. Ren wasn't even a hundred percent sure why he cared, considering how obvious it was that the wounds were from her purposely pulling at the cuffs to try and escape and not from her struggling during her nightmares. Still something in him wanted, needed to do this for her and that was that in his mind - he was just grateful that, at that moment, her lack of knowledge when it came to the Force and all it could provide, was a blessing. There would be no embarrassment or questioning about how he chose to tend to her wounds because she didn't know any better.

Rey was mystified to say the least, when she realized what Kylo Ren, the man who murdered his own father, was doing. It wouldn't have gotten her very far, but she could've fought back against him with a kick or a punch when he removed one of her restraints but, oddly enough, she found herself not wanting to. She silently waited and watched him as he worked instead; how gently he rubbed the soothing ointment on her skin and delicately wrapped the bandages before slowly replacing the cuffs.

She found herself still staring at this conundrum of a man when he finished his task and looked up to meet her eyes. Despite what he had done, despite the horrors he had wrought, she could see a kindness in his eyes that she hadn't noticed before – in that moment she didn't see him as the Sith who murdered the closest thing she had to a father, she just saw a man who had cared enough to relieve her of her pain and it scared her. She was conflicted, but deep down she still knew he was evil at the core.

He looked at her a moment more, attempting to read her feelings - a gentle probe against her thoughts - before he quietly stood, grabbed the case, and made his way to leave. Her words stopped him just as he was about to exit the cell,

"Wait." A pause and then, "Why would you help me?" she asked in the most emotionless voice she could muster.

Silence dragged on in the room and it felt like an eternity before he finally replied, back still turned toward her. "You were… in pain." It was matter of fact, four simple words, but the way they came out – his voice slightly unsteady, as if he were unsure that it was okay to admit – had her doing a double take. The vulnerability in that statement thawed something in her, at least for the moment, as she took in the way his tall frame filled her vision – less imposing than before, with a soft slouch to the shoulders that made him seem – young and perhaps a little more like her. An almost smile pulled at her lips as she spoke again.

"Thank you, Kylo Ren." The second time she had thanked him today.

She had expected him to ignore her and leave the room but instead, he partially turned around to face her. He held her gaze for a moment, dark brown tendrils of hair framing almost the same color of eyes, before he whispered,

"You're welcome, Rey."

With that he turned around again and left her room to return to his own. There wasn't much time left for him to sleep now, before he would need to be up and performing his duties, one of which included a meeting with the supreme leader on the matter of Rey. It didn't really matter though; despite his lack of sleep he felt more awake than ever, like a jolt of electricity was running through his veins – the Force surrounding him and passing through him like a livewire. The encounter with the Force sensitive scavenger girl – Rey, his mind reminded him - seemed to revitalize his energy and as he walked down the empty hallways of the secondary First Order base he felt something that had been foreign to him for many years. He felt alive; it was small and fleeting, but it was there – a slight gnawing at a consciousness that had been dormant for a long time, a consciousness that he worked so hard to keep buried.

He didn't know why, it could be that she was another force user, or that she stood up to him like no one else dared – regardless of the position she was in, or maybe, it was the gratitude she showed him despite being a prisoner in his world – courtesy in a place where it shouldn't have existed – at least not for him. At this point, all he was certain of was that it was her who managed to make him feel something again.

Dark robes swept across empty metal floors as the master of the Knights of Ren returned to his chambers, the face of a scavenger from Jakku firmly implanted in his mind. The shadows seemed to watch him as he walked, taking in his facial expressions, his reactions – everything. They seethed with an evil that had followed Kylo Ren for as long as he could remember. A constant presence always, even in childhood – whispering, prodding, teaching. They seemed a part of the background now, natural, and always there; once, they had plagued him with fear and nightmares not unlike those he had witnessed from Rey, but not anymore, not now that he had fully plunged himself into their abyss – now that there was no way out of the darkness.


	5. Chapter 5

The door of her cell shut swiftly behind the cloaked figure of Kylo Ren as he receded; settling into the tracks on the floor – a low, resounding tone to confirm that it was locked. Rey watched him with hazel eyes for the few seconds before he disappeared, mind mulling over the events that had just transpired.

Her eyes fell, as much as they could in that position, to take in the carefully wrapped, soft white bandages that now provided a barrier between her skin and the cold iron. The stinging sensation was gone, the raw skin protected, and she found herself relaxing where she lay – almost vertical against the restraining platform.

She wondered just how long she'd been like this – Kylo's injuries were all but healed, so it had to have been a while; was anyone looking for her? Finn or Chewie maybe? – an image of Han, collapsing as Ren withdrew his saber flashed through her mind and she closed her eyes against the loss. Shaking her head – as if it would make the past disappear – she resettled herself on the cold metal where she lay and quickly found herself drifting off to sleep. A slight sigh of relief left her lips as her mind finally went under – this time she was able to rest without being interrupted.

For the first time in what felt like ages, Rey slept without any nightmares or strange, foreboding dreams. A peaceful oblivion that afforded the best night of rest she'd had in years – even though she was restrained. She would've kept sleeping, if it weren't for the slight irritation in the back of her mind – not unlike the feeling that those first few rays of sun on Jakku always gave her in the early morning, except – there was no sun. There couldn't be, her room didn't have any windows.

With that realization on her mind, Rey hesitantly opened her eyes to see where the sensation came from – part of her already knew though, what she would find, or more accurately – who she would find. It wasn't wrong; when her vision came to and the blur left her eyes she was met with the image of Kylo Ren, back in his slotted mask, waiting patiently in that same chair in the corner of the room. Part of her wanted to be angry – to lash out – but some rational part of her brain drove her speech in another direction.

"So, am I going to wake up like this every morning?" She asked him with mock sincerity.

His head cocked like a curious bird as he looked back at her – or at least, she assumed he was looking at her based on the direction he was facing.

She finished her statement,

"With you, silently watching over me – brooding behind that mask?"

If it wasn't for the cover, she would've seen him smirk as he suppressed a laugh – instead she was only treated to a slight rustle of his shoulders beneath the obsidian colored cloak he wore – it was enough, enough to remind her that there was a human underneath those layers of black clothing. She'd only been awake for a day, yet she was already growing accustomed to his presence – although the mask was still an acquired taste.

"I'm wearing it because we are going out," he told her – fully aware that the garment made her uncomfortable – it made everyone uncomfortable, except for Snoke of course.

Confusion flitted across her features as she tried to gauge his intentions, she honestly had no idea what he could have in mind and she didn't really want to ask. Resigned to the fact that she couldn't fight back against him, she waited for him to continue.

He chose actions over words as he waved a hand in her general direction and the iron bands around her limbs fell away. Watching her carefully from the corner of his eye as she stretched her tan arms and legs, he entered the doors unlock code in order to retrieve the tray that waited in the arms of the servant outside. He waved the man away with apparent disinterest as he returned to her cell – relocking the door behind him.

Her stomach growled almost at the exact same time that the door to her room opened. A pleasant smell overwhelming her senses as she became embarrassingly aware of how hungry she was. A blush rose on her cheeks as she tried and failed to hide behind her hair as Kylo placed the tray down on the small table in her room. He beckoned towards it and she didn't even hesitate as she practically ran by him to take a seat in the chair that he had been in just moments before - eyes taking in the breakfast that was laid out before her.

For Kylo Ren, it was a simple meal – bread, eggs, juice. For Rey, it was a culinary masterpiece and she savored every bite, relishing in the knowledge that food could actually have a taste other than dust and plastic.

"I thought you might be hungry, you have been here awhile" he spoke as she ate the food, amusement clear in his tone despite the voice modifier.

That comment elicited a cough from Rey as the blush returned to her cheeks and she forced herself to slow down. Reaching for the juice, she took a sip – it was rich and sweet and extremely refreshing. When she'd washed down the food, she carefully wiped her mouth before turning around in her chair to face him.

"How long?" she asked as her stomach settled happily – it was the first real food that she could remember having.

"Just over a week."

"I was asleep that long?" she inquired with a hint of disbelief in her voice.

"We, I, kept you under so I could…" A pause then as he hesitated to admit the truth, "recover." Kylo Ren didn't want to admit that he had needed time to heal from the wounds he had received on Starkiller base – he didn't want to admit to any sort of weakness, but there wasn't any other excuse he could think of that she'd buy – at least not at the moment.

"Oh, I see." Is all she replied with before falling silent, waiting to hear what he would say – or do next. She'd heard the hesitation in his voice as he told her the truth, and part of her almost felt – guilty? – no she couldn't feel guilty she told herself – he deserved everything he got and more. Fighting with her mind to stay resolute on the matter, she turned her gaze up to meet his as he began to speak again.

"Come," he requested and, without waiting for a reply, he strode to the door and unlocked it. Stepping out into the hallway, he waited for her to join him – a dishevelled girl in tattered, sand colored clothing beside a tall figure dressed all in black – before he continued to walk away from the cell.

He led them to a large spherical room with a domed ceiling, half of which was comprised of tinted glass and afforded a breathtaking view of the distant stars and planets. The majority of the floor was made up of a semi soft rubber that infused each step with a slight bounce as they proceeded to the center of the room. The walls were bare, and the room was empty.

Rey turned her head at the sound of metal sliding against metal to see Kylo removing his mask – the simple yet intricate mechanism sliding back to loosen its hold as he lifted the contraption off his head. She couldn't help but notice the way his now free hair loosely curled around his face and fell just below the base of his neck. There was nothing harsh about the way he looked now without the helm, save for the pink scar adorning his cheek.

He turned towards her then and she quickly dropped her gaze – hoping he didn't notice how she'd been staring at him. "So, what are we doing here?" she asked him, pleased when her voice came out steady.

"You might be refusing to relinquish any information on the resistance and the map, but it doesn't change the fact that you need a teacher." He said calmly, "Without any training the power you hold is raw and dangerous – and not just to others…" he paused before continuing, "you could end up killing yourself – if you're not careful."

Rey couldn't sense anything but honesty in his words – no underlying motives or intentions, just the truth – and it shocked her. He believed that she had that much power, that much potential? It wasn't even two weeks ago that she was just a simple scavenger living on Jakku and now this? It was insane.

Kylo could sense her trepidation – it was rolling off her in waves as she struggled to comprehend the gravity of what he'd said.

"Don't get any ideas," he interrupted her train of thoughts, "it's useless if you don't know how to control it."

"I beat you on Starkiller base," she countered reflexively, a wave of regret washing over her when she noticed the angry twitch in his jaw - she took a step back from him then, surprise hitting her like a slap in the face when he didn't blow up in anger. Instead, he turned toward her with a resolute stare and stated:

"It won't happen again."

And then "sit."

He'd kept his temper once, so she did what he said and obediently sat on the soft floor, legs curling up underneath her as he followed her down and mirrored her position.

"Now close your eyes" he spoke in the softest tone she'd heard from him yet. Rey did as he said but was reluctant to lose sight of the man sitting before her – she didn't trust him, couldn't trust him, and as such, she couldn't stop herself from fidgeting.

"Relax" he told her both hearing the soft rustle as she shifted back and forth and sensing her hesitation, "I promise no harm will come to you."

Hearing his use of 'promise' immediately calmed her nerves – as if she were a young child and the simple inclusion of that word indicated that there was no reason for doubt. It seemed uncharacteristic for one such as Kylo Ren to promise anything, so when he did, she found herself inclined to believe him.

He began to speak again, this time in a very level, almost scholarly voice, "In order to use the Force, you must first learn to control it and to control it, you must first learn to recognize it – how it surrounds and flows through everything and everyone."

She could hear his intake of breath in front of her as he continued on, "I will open my mind to you, and you can follow my thoughts – concentrate as I do, see as I do." "…I would warn you against delving any deeper though."

She silently nodded her head at that, forgetting that he couldn't see her because his eyes were closed too – but he _felt_ the gesture in the way her mind changed - focused now and intent on his words.

Rey felt his guard drop as if there had been a wall right in front of her this entire time and she carefully pushed forward – searching for his mind through the haze of her own. Kylo pushed back and suddenly they could _see_ each other as clear as if their eyes were open – a scavenger girl facing a practitioner of the dark side of the force. In that moment though, titles and allegiance fell away as she felt his mind work – pulling at the space and matter that surrounded him, seeing that which wasn't visible.

It seemed so natural, following his lead as she concentrated on the spaces between the visible world. Clarity came suddenly as she worked, swirling bands that seemed, almost like wind manifested in a physical form, moving around and through the air – through her. Light blue streaks of energy that flitted back and forth happily, entering one space, and leaving through another – they seemed to be everywhere, everywhere but right in front of her.

There they were met with a similar energy, but this was different; dark and heavy with emotion – these bands moved slower, more methodically through the air. They swirled and coalesced around Kylo Ren like water, bathing his skin before pulling back to twist into his surroundings once more.

Both parties watched in a state of awe, as between them, the two energies seemed to meld together. It wasn't a harsh collision like one fighting against the other, but a perfect unison of fast and slow, dark and light, as the different colored bands mixed and separated before returning to each other once more. Dark on one side, light on the other but a rich warm blue where they met in the middle.

This was all new to Rey, but it was also something that Kylo Ren, who had trained in the force for years, had never seen before. To say the least, he was mystified at the sight that lay before him and he took in its beauty for a moment more before he severed the link that had formed between him and Rey.

A sigh of contentment escaped her lips as they both let go of the vision they were sharing.

"That was beautiful." She said, "I've never seen anything like it before."

"Of course, you haven't – you've never had a teacher." He replied sardonically and was met with a slightly exasperated gaze from Rey. Glad to find that she didn't seem interested in questioning what had happened between them, literally, he stood up and offered his hand out to her. To his pleasure, she didn't balk as she reached up to join her fingers with his own and allowed him to gently pull her up off the floor.

Rey was content not to say anything else after that experience and followed him from the training room as he led her back towards her cell.

He hadn't bothered to put the mask back on when they reached her cell and still held it in his hand as he stopped just in front of the door as it closed. Rey expected him to order her back to the platform, so he could reset the restraints, but she was met instead with silence and a conflicted stare as he watched her. She was beginning to grow uncomfortable in his gaze when he finally let out a breath and stepped towards her. She moved backwards towards the device in response– knowing that there was still no point in resisting, especially considering the lightsaber who's hilt she could see protruding from beneath his cloak.

"Wait." He called out to her and she returned her gaze to his. "I take it you still have no intention of giving up the map?" he asked, knowing what her answer would be. At this point it was extremely doubtful that the Resistance wouldn't have found his old master – Luke – but there was a chance, and Snoke still wanted the location – more than he wanted Rey's allegiance. To him her added powers were a benefit, not a necessity.

Resolve in her eyes as she met his question and replied "No, I don't and yes, I know what that means." Rey had hoped it wouldn't come to this again, but it was a foolish thing, she'd just been waiting for him to try again – to try and pry the map from her head.

He seemed to wince at her response and muttered, "I'd rather not do this, but I don't have a choice." The look in his eyes as he said that was almost pleading for a moment before it hardened and turned cold – locking out any and all emotion.

"Is that why you taught me today? Taught me how to see the force?" she asked him, sadness tinging her words, "so you could gain my trust – trick me into giving you the map?" Sadness turned quickly into anger and frustration with every word she said, any understanding they'd reached previously shattering in an instant as she returned his gaze with loathing.

"Go ahead then. Try it." She goaded him, mentally preparing herself for the pain that came when he tried to steal her thoughts.

On the outside Kylo was cold and unflinching as he raised his hand to her cheek, fingers resting against freckled skin as he tried to pull the map from her mind, but on the inside, he was – hurt. How fast she had gone from trusting to hating him again, from understanding to accusing – it stung, even if he wouldn't let it show on his face.

"I'm sorry Rey." He said, barely loud enough for her to hear as he pulled at her thoughts; tears forming beneath her eyes and leaving tracks down her face where they ran. This time he was careful to keep his own mental block in place as he fished for the desired image – she wouldn't be breaking into his thoughts this time.

Her head was screaming in pain by the time he finally drew away, resolved in the fact that he wouldn't be getting any information out of her today. She fell back against the platform, panting – an indignant pride in her mind at being able to hold him off again, but there was also a gnawing sense of sadness – that he had betrayed her. It was ridiculous she told herself, to think that, considering she was a prisoner – but after what they had experienced in the training room her view of him had changed, at least until this happened. For the brief time it took for them to get from there to here she had felt content and comfortable in his presence, like, despite their situations they had reached a mutual understanding.

Kylo could feel it too, that any progress they had made today had just been squashed – but he couldn't defy the demands of the Supreme Leader – regardless of how much he might want to. He allowed the fingers that still rested against her flushed cheek to gently brush away the tears that he'd caused, while he waved his other hand to lock her restraints back into place.

"I am sorry" he said again quietly as he turned from her and left the room, replacing the helmet on his head so that he could stop trying to school his features. He had to report to the Supreme Leader almost immediately and was glad that such a mask existed to preserve his countenance. Leaving her cell behind, Kylo Ren proceeded to the innermost section of the base – to the auditorium where he would convene with Snoke.

Frustration and sadness pulled at Rey's heart as she lay back against the platform – the cold metal once again reminding her that she was in enemy territory. She wanted to believe that he'd shown her genuine concern, kindness even, when he took her to the training room. The utter beauty of the vision she experienced, with his help, didn't seem like some cheap diversion tactic. It was raw and personal - a gift that not many people have anymore. She'd been comfortable in his presence, relaxed even – but he'd thrown away any trust she'd given him when he tried to reach for the map again. Why? Why bother trying to teach her, to be kind? If he was just going to throw it all away so soon after.

With literally nothing else to do in her immobile state, she continued to berate her mind with these unanswerable questions as she waited – hoping for someone to interrupt her thoughts. At this point anyone and anything would be welcome – just so long as she didn't have to torture herself over how trusting she'd been of the enemy.


	6. Chapter 6

Excessively large, cold steel doors closed behind Kylo Ren as he entered the dimly lit chamber, the only light available coming from the grayish projection of Supreme Leader Snoke where he sat upon a great, roughly hewn throne. General Hux was already there, deep in conversation with his leader from where he stood on a circular dais before the imposing hologram.

He wasted no time as he swiftly approached the pair, black boots treading over jagged rock as he did so – the room was more like a cave, with uneven walls and floors all fashioned from stone; veins of obsidian and garnet glinted in the limited light like fresh blood against an endless, stormy sea. The room was a construct that Snoke had demanded, something of a personal taste – but Kylo wouldn't dare question it, regardless of how outlandish an idea it seemed, to have this room on a spacecraft.

Reaching the pair, he dropped to one knee on the cold stone of the dais, head bowed, and eyes closed beneath the mask.

"Forgive me master, I was not expecting your presence so soon," Kylo Ren apologized. In his mind he knew that he was actually early, but courtesy was to be given to his master at all times – regardless of an unspoken change in plans.

Hux sneered down at him as Kylo brought his gaze up to meet with Snoke's – probably over pleased that he had beaten his leaders apprentice at something. Snoke was a source of jealousy for both of them – each vying for the attention and recognition of the powerful being, neither willing to admit it.

Their leader wasn't one to dwell and contemplate though, and he glossed right over Kylo's apology to move on to other matters – Rey.

"Have you managed to retrieve the map to Skywalker from her yet?" he asked in a derisive tone, clearly displeased in his apprentice's failures thus far.

There was no hiding or stretching the truth here, so Ren replied honestly, pleading a little as he did so – "I have not master – the girl is strong and extremely resistant… but I know, that with your guidance, I can get the map from her."

Silence followed that statement as Snoke's twisted glare found Hux, whom he stared at for a moment before speaking,

"Leave us, General."

Hux didn't balk or ask questions, he simply turned around at the order and strode straight out of the chamber, a purposeful bounce in his step as he left.

It was just the two of them then, a Knight and his master, shrouded in darkness – the occasional glint of red, flashing across the silver of Ren's mask. Kylo could feel the anger seething in his direction – Snoke wasn't even trying to hide his displeasure at the man that stood in front of him. His eyes never left the Supreme Leader, knowing full well what was to come next. He waited, muscles tensed with memory, as he took in the towering, pale figure before him – milk white skin that appeared twisted and burned with deep scaring on the forehead as well as the cheek; causing his mouth to turn down in one corner and an eye to sit crooked in the flesh. It was like looking at a gnarled, ivory colored tree – how the flesh seemed to contort and twist around the bones, leaving gaps that led into some unknown darkness. Snoke appeared human in base shape and form, but the details – grotesque and twisted – spoke of some other species entirely; as if the evil within had taken root on the outside.

It came then – a darkness that travelled across space to cloud his vision, filling his mind with reminders of every evil thing he had done. Images flitted by one by one – what remained of the Jedi Order – strewn across the ground before a burning temple, writhing in agony as they died. Lor San Tekka, once a friend, cold and dead before him, the smell of burning flesh still palpable in the air. Then, the worst came, a metal catwalk stretched over a dark abyss and his fathers voice calling his name – "Ben!" – pain shot through his body – no, his father calling a dead boys name. Then he was before him, a father begging his son to come home as he drew his weapon and before he even knew what was happening, Han Solo's body was sliding off his wildly burning lightsaber, falling over the edge and into darkness.

He couldn't see what was in front of him, only the visions that Snoke was feeding into his mind, the mental hold manifesting itself in the physical realm as dark tendrils wrapped their way around his arms and encircled his torso. They were similar to what he had seen with Rey earlier, but not quite, these bands were inky black and thick – writhing with a tangible hate and anger. Before, they had been dark and encompassing yes, but there was a hint of softness, and the emotion was fulfilling – anger, joy, sadness, passion – a spectrum of every feeling.

Kylo Ren's bindings were meant as pure punishment – sinking into his skin, the armor he wore no more than an illusion, as his flesh burned at their touch.

"You disappoint me." Snoke's voice pierced through the darkness, low and steady, now devoid of any emotion or intentions.

"For years I have whispered to you, guided you, trained you – and this is all you have to show for it? Clearly, I misjudged you – … your training will have to continue." Snoke finished, relinquishing his hold on both Kylo Ren's mind and body – the snake like manifestations of the dark side of the force withdrawing to the shadows before disappearing completely.

Weakened, Kylo fell to his knees before the Supreme Leader. "Yes master." He replied solemnly, accepting his fate as he bowed his head and tried to regain his breath.

It was a dull pain by now, but irritating all the same – the pattern of burns that he could feel under his clothing, one wrapped like a ring around each arm – and one that ran from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. They only ever burned him in those same spots, like a mark of dominance, the scar tissue building with each successive lesson. The skin there was now dull, puckered, and resistant – but the wounds stung all the same as he shifted around on his knees.

It seemed as though Snoke was about to say something more – but if he did, Kylo wouldn't have heard it, for at that exact moment he heard a gut-wrenching scream. _No_ , his mind quickly corrected him, it had come through the Force, through an emotional link. _Rey,_ his mind told him, the one screaming was Rey.

Forgetting the bitter annoyance of the burns, and ignoring whatever Snoke was about to say – Kylo quickly rose to his feet and turned his back on the Supreme Leader – only one thought on his mind as he quickly left the room without so much as a glance behind.

It hadn't been long since Kylo Ren left her cell when Rey heard footsteps outside – too many to just be him – and the sound of buttons being pressed on a keypad. The lock released, and the metal door slid away on it's track, revealing a barrage of white armored stormtroopers – a redhead in sharply pressed clothing at their front. The soldiers wasted no time as they filed into the small room, fanning out around the platform where she lay, enclosing her in a circle – the one with elaborate clothing stopping in front of her.

He kept his eyes on anything but her - observing the walls, the floor, the troopers he had brought – as he began his speech.

"It seems as though my colleague has proved quite – inept – when it comes to you. The Supreme Leader was so confident in his abilities and yet, here we are," he paused, cold blue eyes quickly scanning over her before returning to their original position - locked on the plain, empty floor.

"You, still in perfect condition and us, still devoid of the map to Luke Skywalker. Our Leader grows impatient, and, it has become apparent that Kylo Ren, despite all that supposed power, is useless when it comes to getting information from you, scavenger" – he added that last word to emphasize his distaste with the meaningless girl before him.

Rey had wished for an interruption to her thoughts, but her stomach dropped as she listened to this man, with clear hatred on his face, speak of her condition like it was more than she deserved. She eyed the storm troopers that had surrounded her – each one as impassive and statue-still as the next.

"I may not be able to take the map from your head, but I can make you want to give it up. Honestly, it pains me to provide any assistance to that man, but at this point it has become a necessary evil." His gaze slowly returned to face her then, a cold, half smile, pulling at the corners of his thin lips as it did so.

"I'll give you one chance." He spoke in a deadly quiet tone – "will you surrender the map?"

Rey had come this far without giving in and that wasn't about to change anytime soon. She met his gaze with a cold stare of her own, resolved not to betray her friends, to not give up. She'd managed thus far, living the harsh and lonely life of a scavenger – this man wouldn't break her, and she conveyed that through her silence.

A twitch at the corner of his eye as his gaze left hers to rest on one of the stormtroopers beside her.

"General Hux?" the man asked as he stood up a little straighter. _So that's his name,_ Rey thought as she waited for a response.

A silent nod from Hux was all she saw before her vision shifted sharply to the right. Her cheek throbbed, and she saw stars as it registered that she was now staring at the boots of the troopers where they stood around her. _He punched me_ , was all Rey had time to think before the next blow came – forcing her head in the other direction this time. She felt her nose break with the impact, warm blood trickling down her chin and neck.

Looking up, she was met with Hux's silent stare and she – smiled. Lips spread to show bloodstained teeth as she met his gaze, unwavering in her convictions.

"Is that all?" She goaded him, knowing full well that they had no intention of stopping so soon – but she refused to show weakness.

Another silent nod and the abuse continued – another gloved hand striking her lower jaw, an armored elbow driven into her ribcage. It seemed every inch of her face was throbbing by the time Hux's hand came up in a silent signal to halt. Rey's vision was blurry, and the eyes that stared back at the general were bloodshot and wet with tears. The mind probe had been painful to resist and emotionally draining but this hurt was wholly physical, and it took its toll on her body.

"Care to change your mind?" he asked, a cruel indifference in his tone.

When she still refused to speak he dropped his hand and that was all his men needed to continue their assault. Rey had known what the First Order was capable of and she'd heard bits and pieces as she grew up about the damage the Empire had wrought before – but she hadn't expected this. Such a brute show of physical force and torture – it seemed they were at wits end when it came to retrieving what lay inside her mind.

She barely even noticed as they removed her restraints and shoved her off the platform; her body hitting the cold stone below with a smack that took the breath from her lungs. An image of Kylo Ren flashed across her mind as she struggled to regain control of her breath. A whole new wave of loathing and betrayal flooded her emotions as she recalled what Hux had said – that they were making it easier for him to dig around in her mind – weakening her physically so she would have no strength left to fight him mentally. She fought back tears at the thought that he was willing to go this far, her throat tight with anger and the taste of her own blood fresh on her tongue.

"Remove those bandages" – Hux's voice again from, somewhere above her, "they're an unnecessary kindness." His words were followed by a sharp pain in her wrists and ankles as the faceless men simultaneously ripped the cloth from her skin – re-exposing the raw flesh to the cold air in the cell. Her mind flashed again, this time with the image of Kylo hunched over her, carefully tending to her wounds – it incited a whole new wave of hurt and confusion that he would do this to her now, but was quickly forgotten when the first booted foot connected with her abdomen.

The force from the blow sent her backwards into the base of the restraining platform – the cold metal slamming against her back, its corners digging into her skin. Every part of her was screaming in pain but she refused to give in to it, she wouldn't give these people the upper hand – she couldn't.

A few more kicks to her abdomen before there was a slight pause – presumably Hux giving some new directive, but if he did Rey couldn't hear it. Her ears were ringing, and her vision was blurred – it was all she could do not to scream out in agony.

She wasn't really sure what happened next; from the corner of her eye she could see something white moving through the air, and then a sickening snap echoed through the room – followed by a scream that stung her ears and rattled her brain. Not even fully conscious anymore, it barely registered in her mind that the scream was her own. Everything was a blur – a red haze covering her vision, sound muffled and contorted, and fresh red tears flowing freely from her swollen eyes.

She couldn't respond to Hux now even if she wanted to – her mind was too muddled, her thoughts too hazy. She tried to lift her head off the ground, but the muscles wouldn't respond. Another flash of white in her limited vision as the stormtrooper's boot connected with her leg again to confirm the injury. White hot pain shot through her veins as she let out another scream, barely holding on to her consciousness, hoping it would end soon.

It was too much for her to take, her hazel eyes - now tinged with blood - could barely register the world around her. The opening door looked like a moving dash of grey, the soldiers a mass of white and then –

The world lit up around her – bright and burning, with the color of blood.

The great doors shut fast behind him as Kylo Ren stormed out of the audience chamber, mind reeling as he absorbed her pain. He'd been oblivious to what was happening until she screamed – her agony ripping through the Force and pushing itself into his mind – it seemed to form a link and now he could feel every blow, every injury as he raced towards her.

If anyone witnessed the uncharacteristic act, they were smart enough to keep themselves hidden – anger was rolling off him in waves, barely under control – no one would escape his wrath in this state.

A second, piercing scream inside his head threatened to drive him to his knees, but the echo of that same sound against his surroundings pushed him forward. He was close enough now that he'd heard her both mentally and physically. Swiftly pulling the lightsaber from his belt as he approached the locked door of her cell at a near sprint, Kylo proceeded to run the metal through with his blade rather than enter a simple code. The searing metal fell around him in chunks, as he stepped over the threshold.

The first thing he saw was Rey, barely conscious and covered in her own blood – crumpled where she lay on the floor – surrounded by stormtroopers. His first instinct was to go to her, but the shaking of the man in the corner pulled his attention. Kylo Ren was not one for holding back and he swiftly approached the clearly frightened General Hux where he stood cowering; there was no hesitation in his movements as he raised the lightsaber and ran him through. Flesh sizzled, and torso separated from legs as he drew back the weapon, both halves falling to the floor, vessels instantly cauterized from the intense heat and not a single drop of blood was spilt.

Satisfied, Ren turned on the soldiers that still surrounded Rey – frozen in place as they watched his movements with fear. He didn't bother using the Force when they tried to run – his movements with the lightsaber were too fast, too lethal. Anger swirled within him as one after the other, the troopers fell, each one dead before they hit the floor as he relentlessly cut through them with his flaming saber.

He extinguished the blade as the last man fell behind him, wasting no time as he moved to Rey's side, ripping the mask off his head as he did so. Her eyes were barely open in their swollen sockets as she blinked up at him – each one slower than the last as he gingerly lifted her broken body in his arms. He made to leave the cell and this time her eyes stayed closed – breath slowing and barely audible from where she lay suspended in his hold against the layers of dark fabric.

Darkness gathered around Snoke like an old friend as he sat upon a throne not unlike the one aboard the Finalizer. The only difference being its reduced size. He pondered the actions of his apprentice – how he had ignorantly turned his back and left after feeling the scavenger girls pain. Being highly sensitive to the Force, Snoke had sensed the girl as well, not that he wasn't already aware of her situation. The fact that she was able to reach Kylo Ren's mind, despite the barriers he had woven to try and blind his apprentice from what he had requested of General Hux, was indicative of the power that Kylo professed she had.

If he had really wanted the map to Luke Skywalker, he could've requested that the girl be brought before him; ripping the image from her mind would've been an easy task for the Supreme Leader. He had different intentions however, knowing that the Resistance had already located the Jedi, he sought to use the girl to search out any weakness or apprehension in Kylo Ren. The boy had always drifted between the two sides of the Force, but he would make sure that the light within him remained buried.

Snoke's hand came to rest on his gnarled chin as he contemplated. If the girl was truly as strong as she appeared to be then he wanted her power for his own. He had stated as much thus far to Kylo, but this was the first time when he truly meant it for himself. Resolved, Snoke set his sights on twisting the girls light until it was as dark as his own and as malleable as Kylo Ren's.


	7. Chapter 7

A trail of fresh blood mapped Kylo Ren's movements as he retreated from the corpse laden cell; the bright coppery liquid tracing a path through the halls, periodically spotting the marbled floor, until it ended abruptly at a thick steel door complete with multiple sophisticated locks. On the other side of the threshold, an inwardly frantic Kylo Ren was carefully cradling Rey's body as he gently lowered her onto dark sheets, supporting her head with pillows as he did so.

He could barely hear her breath as he pushed blood crusted hairs away from her swollen face, carefully tucking them behind her ears. There wasn't any time back in the cell, but now, he took in every inch of her, assessing injuries as his eyes scanned her body from head to toe, and what he saw scared him. He'd seen death and bloodshed – he'd executed it, more than once – but he wasn't prepared for this.

She was unconscious, but it was still obvious that both her eyes were swollen shut, the skin around them purple and peppered with small cuts where the skin broke under pressure. Her nose was crooked and leaking blood – clearly broken - and there was a large split in the middle of her bottom lip, the soft pink skin now raw and stained with red.

His eyes fell next, to her torso, where her already ragged clothing had been torn through multiple times – exposing the black and purple bruises that lined the skin. Running his hands over the injury he visualized the internal damage, connecting with the Force and using it to see internally. He drew a sharp breath when the image cleared, and he could _see_ ; she had multiple broken ribs and was bleeding internally – the sharp bone puncturing precious tissue. The _sight_ showed him the damage to her lower leg as well – one bone snapped clean in half and lodged in the surrounding muscle, the other severely fractured and threatening to do the same.

Kylo tried to stay calm, but the damage to her system was too great – the physical pain shutting her mind down, the internal injuries bleeding her dry. He felt her heartbeat slow with each passing second, her light dissipating as it did so. There was nothing he could to save her, to stop the bleeding, and the tears came unwillingly to his eyes.

The darkness inside of him didn't want to admit that he could care so much for her after such a short time, but there was something else there – something that came alive when she was near, when she spoke – even when she was yelling at him. A barely noticeable flicker, a light blue streak across the back of his mind when he looked down at her where she lay – like a gentle reminder of something important.

It hit him then, an image of the training room – Rey across from him as the Force manifested itself in a way that he had never witnessed before. The dark waves of his own power crashing into and melding with the peaceful blue streaks of Rey's; a rich, warm sapphire where they met in the middle. It spoke of balance and connection and-

His eyes shot open as he looked down at Rey to see his memory of earlier today seemingly manifest itself before his eyes. The pale blue wind was wrapping itself around her limbs, up and down her body – focusing itself around her worst injuries – as if providing a map for him. Kylo was unsure of himself, but the breeze seemed to be beckoning him forward, teaching and instructing.

He felt only half there as he instinctively pushed out with the force, his hands resting on her body – one on her stomach, the other on the broken leg. The Force flowed around him as it did before, dark, coalescing, filled with emotion – and he directed it all at Rey's injuries. A perfect replay, the dark and light came together around her injuries – surrounding them in a rich, warm blue energy. It flowed through her like water and caressed the wounds like a soft breeze, swirling and healing under Kylo's guidance. He directed the energy toward her ribs, pushing them back into place and sealing them together – fragments knitting and smoothing over to return to normal. Then he was focusing on the internal lacerations, seemingly sewing them closed with the Force itself – energy weaving back and forth through the tissues, pulling the gaps shut and securing them in place.

His attention was then drawn to her leg, and he wasted no time in directing this newfound power to the large break there. He watched mystified, as under his touch and influence, the bone pulled back out of the muscle, the tears healing as it did so, to slide back into place. The fractures seemed to melt away under his fingers, as the last of the bone was fused and healed.

Kylo was exhausted from having expended so much energy already – but there was one last thing he had to do. His hands found her face again as he cupped her cheeks and willed the healing power to last just a little longer. Concentrating all his strength, he began to close the cuts, and reduce the bruising that surrounded her eyes. Her nose snapped back into place and the split in her lip had just begun to heal when his vision blurred, darkness closing around the edges. He was just quick enough to catch the edge of the bed as his legs gave out and he fell to his knees – head rested beside Rey's hand where it lay motionless on the sheets as he lost consciousness.

Rey woke first, dazed and vision blurry, with a throbbing pain in her cheekbones and across her abdomen. It was nothing compared to what she had felt before she passed out though – the pain had been raw and burning; a shudder passed through her as she replayed the sound of her leg snapping beneath the weight of the stormtrooper –

 _My leg,_ she thought as she gingerly pulled herself up against the sleek ebony headboard, surprised and confused that it didn't cause her pain as she moved – mystified when she found that she could still bend her knee and swivel her ankle. It was healed, and, confounded by this discovery, Rey made to check for the rest of the injuries that she knew she should have but was interrupted when the sound of another human's breathing registered in her mind.

Memories flitted through Kylo's mind as he slept – dreams of failures, of disappointments. He'd always been proficient in lightsaber combat, ambitious and wanting to learn, but when it came to the more sensitive side of the Force he was found lacking. The energy was only ever there to accompany his anger, his pain at being abandoned, tossed aside – every attempt to use it for happiness or compassion resulted in blank stares and hours of work with no reward. He'd been the only one, he remembered, who couldn't use the Force to heal at all – it was like a wall had dropped between the ability and him – every time he tried he was met with silence; as though the Force suddenly retreated and was nowhere to be found.

In his dreams he could see the many attempts – practicing on simple cuts, bruises – his fellow students succeeding with ease and him – clueless as to what magic they were weaving, angry that it wouldn't come to him – that the ability to heal, himself or others, would elude him so.

And then there was Starkiller Base and the burns from the Skywalker lightsaber. First Order medical crews had stopped the bleeding, sewn him up and grafted the burns – because he couldn't do it himself – not that any of them knew it was a possibility of course. But it still irked him, the scars – especially the one that trailed from left brow to right cheek – a constant reminder not only of his defeat, but of his inability to even begin to master an essential Force technique.

But, that image was replaced with Rey, energy pouring from him and into her – healing wounds so great they would've caused her death. Something had freed itself within him, granting access to this new power, granting him a chance to save her life – _why?_

She slowly swiveled her head to inspect the sound and her jaw almost dropped. Kylo Ren, dark waves of hair framing his face as he rested his head on the mattress, just inches away from her hand, was asleep – his features softened and almost boyish, almost – innocent. Rey had no idea what to make of this predicament as she took in her surroundings – other than the man asleep in front of her.

The bed upon which she lay was clothed in dark satin sheets, softer than any material she'd ever felt before; it boasted a large ebony headboard which she was currently using to lean against and was flanked on either side by relatively ordinary looking waist high cabinets that were fashioned from the same wood. The walls enclosing them were a dark, cold gray with nothing to interrupt the color except for a rather large window that looked out onto the depths of space. The starlight that filtered in through the heavy panes provided the only illumination in this unknown room and consequently, Rey could barely make out what lay in the darkest corner; an obsidian colored, gleaming podium and upon it - some disfigured object that, while it may have once been black, was now a deep, soot infused gray – as if it was painted in ash. The only other features in the room were the twin steel doors set on either wall; one of which was guarded by a keypad.

Returning attention to her own situation, Rey cautiously peered down, expecting to find her clothes torn and stained with blood but, while that was true for the sheets surrounding her – dark and crusted spots outlining her position – she herself was relatively free of it. The clothes she wore were not her own – similar in style and identical in color, but devoid of any abuse – of any blood. She started to panic a little then, realizing that somebody must have changed her clothes while she slept – _was it him?_ She thought – eyes darting to the sleeping figure next to her only –

He wasn't asleep anymore. Kylo Ren stood at his full height beside where she sat, gaze intent on hers as she registered his presence. A wave of anger flashed through her as her eyes narrowed accusingly at him.

"Did you do this!?"

He looked slightly taken aback, if only for a moment, before he replied, "If you mean 'did I save your life', then yes." Unhelpful wit always being his first line of verbal defence.

It wasn't unlike every other time she'd woken up to find him in her presence, but Kylo still managed to be surprised when he was met with anger. He hadn't expected that, and it grated on his nerves. A sarcastic comment on his lips, he was just about to retaliate, when he noticed the slight blush on Rey's cheekbones - visible even under the bruising that still dotted her features. She wasn't looking at him anymore – instead, her eyes focused on the new and blood free, sand colored shirt she wore.

 _Oh… OH,_ Kylo thought, feeling like a stunted idiot. _She thought…_ Now it was his turn to be slightly red, embarrassed at the thought despite his maturity. Nearly thirty years old yet the prospect had him unsettled. It was clearly mortifying for Rey though, as he watched her features shift – tears threatening at the corner of her eyes as she imagined the worst.

"No, it wasn't me." He choked out, slightly stuttering, "I had a female servant come in." In all honesty he could barely even remember making the demand and wasn't sure if it occurred before or after he healed her – his mind was fuzzy from all the energy and power he had used.

A realization came to him then – that if he'd passed out here, beside Rey – then the servant had swapped her clothes right in front of him – why wasn't he woken up? He pictured the image of himself asleep and defenceless as he kneeled by the bed and a whole new wave of embarrassment clouded his thoughts – but he gritted his teeth and pressed his lips together, trying to keep that emotion far away from his face – after all, if Rey knew he had been there, even asleep, he doubted her anger would ebb.

"Oh. I'm sorry for yelling at you then." A pause as she contemplated how to phrase her next words deciding to just get straight to the point.

"Why would you help me?"

"Why order your men to beat me half to death just to stop them at the last possible minute?" her breathing increased as her emotions spiked again, this time it wasn't in anger, but frustration, confusion – hurt. Her eyes glistened as they searched for an answer within his own, an explanation. "I don't understand." She managed to add in the tiniest of voices as her head dropped, hair forming a veil around her features.

That question sent a jolt of hurt through Kylo as he connected the dots – Rey thought it was his idea, that he'd given the order. She wouldn't look at him anymore, shoulders trembling slightly as he drew closer to her – taking a seat at the edge of the bed. Anger swirled inside him at the accusation, but he choked it down – he had to explain, she needed to understand he had no part in it.

"Rey," he said softly, and she instinctively tried to move away at the sound of his proximity – shoving herself across the bed, wincing as she did so. She tried not to show the pain it caused her, but he wasn't surprised. He hadn't had enough energy to heal all the bruising on her body and he imagined, that under her new shirt, her abdomen would still be covered in black and purple splotches as it was earlier.

"Rey, it wasn't me." He said imploringly, taken aback that it had come out like that – with so much need for her to _hear_ him. "I didn't know what was happening until you screamed." – that warranted him a confused stare from Rey, her eyes narrowed with loathing.

"You formed a channel in the Force Rey, and it linked you to me." He paused "that's when I knew – and I…put a stop to it." He involuntarily reached out towards her as he said those last few words, not knowing whether he wanted to comfort her or ring her neck for accusing him.

She recoiled from his touch, "I don't believe you. Hux told me your plan, that he would…weaken me physically so I couldn't fight back mentally – against you" she snarled as she turned away and started to stand, trying to get further away from him.

He was around the bed in the blink of an eye - some basic instinct driving his actions as her knees buckled and she began to fall to the floor. His arms came around her of their own volition – one around the shoulders, one under the backs of her knees – as he stopped her descent and lifted her against him. The hazel eyes gazing up at him were filled with so many different emotions that her expression was unreadable – they flickered uncomfortably as she became agonizingly aware of how close they were – but he tightened his grip on her and began to speak again.

"I swear to you Rey, I didn't know… I was…convening with the Supreme Leader when it happened." Her gaze was uncertain as she listened to him – but she didn't try to break his hold on her – _probably to spare herself more pain_ he thought to himself. Kylo didn't know why he was so hell-bent on proving himself to her but for some reason, the small trust or understanding they had built meant everything to him at that moment.

"I'll prove it to you." He whispered in a voice that was barely audible as he prepared himself – no one, save for himself and Snoke, knew about what happened in the dark – what he would have to let her see. Part of his brain was screaming no – but it was drowned out by that sad, weak part of him – the part that didn't want to be alone.

Rey wasn't sure why she wasn't putting up any resistance to Kylo Ren's embrace as she looked up at him with untrusting eyes – waiting for him to make good on his statement. It didn't take long – like a shift in the wind, she felt the wall between their minds drop, a mental signature beckoning her forward into the dark abyss of his thoughts.

At first, she couldn't see anything, but the vision slowly cleared to reveal a man, dark in his dress, standing vigilant before a great throne – upon which sat a looming and horribly disfigured specter. It's skin white and twisted, eyes crooked and harrowing as they bored into the figure before him – Kylo, she realized. So, this must be his master – The Supreme Leader Snoke, that she kept hearing about.

The pale figure was berating Kylo where he stood, about – her. Distaste, palpable even in the memory, rolled off him in waves as he glared at his apprentice – shaming him for his inability to retrieve the map from her mind. She watched with disbelief, frozen and invisible, as the darkness in the room seemed to coil and slide along the floor, wrapping around Kylo – the mask covered his expression, but she could see his body shaking as if he were in pain and she could hear his breathing intensify before her. His mind spoke to her of pain from the shadows as though it was a regular occurrence – an old friend. _This is what happens when I fail_ – a voice with no origin told her, betraying his thoughts – his secret.

The scene was dark and menacing and she wished for it to end, to put a stop to the disgusting abuse she was witnessing – her own assault temporarily forgotten as she relived this so recent part of Kylo's life with him.

The coiled bands retreated from his figure, and he weakly fell to the floor, kneeling to this cruel farce of a leader. It was then that she heard the scream, _her scream,_ in the back of Kylo's head – a ripple through the Force as everything she was feeling came barreling down on him. She watched, with a renewed appreciation and almost – awe – as he abruptly stood and left the room – leaving his master behind without so much as a word.

After that, his recollection of what happened was hazy – a mass of anger and rage as he barreled through the halls, shredding the door of her cell and – the memories flashed in her own mind at the same time as his as she remembered. Despite being half conscious she remembered his burning red lightsaber as it cut Hux in two and sliced through stormtrooper after stormtrooper as he made his way to her.

Opening her eyes, she was met with Kylo's gaze – so raw and vulnerable and trusting in that moment as he looked down at her. Rey didn't know what she'd done to warrant the trust he'd placed in her, but it instantly calmed her anger towards him. There was no doubt in her mind that what he'd shown her was the truth and it made her feel – warm – that somebody, especially Kylo Ren, had placed that much faith in her.

Kylo waited for a response with baited breath, mind still swimming with the reality of the side of him that he kept buried from everyone – everyone but her it would seem.

"You killed Hux." Her voice came from below him, and his stomach dropped, expecting to feel a new wave of fear or loathing from her. Waiting for her to try and scramble out of his arms – to regain the distance between them.

"Thank you." Her voice again, louder and more sure this time, interrupting his inner ramble. He couldn't believe what he heard.

"What did you say?" he asked, bewildered and desperate for the confirmation.

"I said thank you, for killing Hux – and the stormtroopers."

Kylo couldn't believe what he was hearing – this girl, so full of life and so in tune with the light side of the Force was thanking him for ruthlessly taking lives. But that's when he realized – Rey wasn't a Jedi, there were no rules or codes for her to follow – just her own will, her own beliefs – so there was nothing holding her back from being content with the deaths of the people who'd nearly killed her. The statement was brutally honest, and he found himself unable to look away from this girl – a new appreciation for her settling itself in his mind.

"Umm, would you mind putting me down now?" She asked, squirming in his arms and he almost – laughed. A half smile pulling at the corner of his mouth as he tried to contain the sound while he gently set her back down on the edge of the bed.

"Thanks." She said after she was once again sitting on the mattress, her toes gently brushing the floor as her legs dangled over the edge. "Also, for catching me," her cheeks pinked at that statement, "I wasn't expecting that to happen."

He sat down beside her then, careful to keep some space between them.

"I wasn't able to heal you completely," he said, "keeping you alive drained too much of my energy."

"I wondered why you were sleeping like that…" she murmured quietly, as if thinking to herself, before continuing "How did you? Heal me, that is. I don't see any medical supplies around – not like before."

"It's called Force Assist – the ability to heal others through the Force. I visualized the energy fields around you, your injuries and I directed the Force to, essentially, reverse the damage." He explained the process to her in close to the same way that Luke had so many years ago – omitting the fact that he'd never healed anyone, not even himself, before – and that the 'energy fields' he mentioned were some strange mix of her powers and his own. The prideful monster inside of him refused to let slip his inadequacies in this particular ability thus far and he didn't want to contemplate the meaning of their melding manifestations of the Force – he just hoped that she wouldn't question how he'd treated her ankles and wrists with bandages instead of healing them on the spot.

A sigh of relief nearly escaped his lips when the question never came, and she changed the topic, but was quickly shoved down by the particular topic she chose.

Rey was hesitant, to say the least, to prod more into his secrets than she already had, but seeing that vision of him before his 'master'- breathless and pained – tugged at her heartstrings.

"What did he do to you?" She asked him, a little more emotion clouding her voice than she'd intended, but he just stared back at her like she'd spoken in Binary, so she clarified, "What did Snoke do to you?"

A range of emotions played over his features as she waited for an answer; the old standby – anger – sadness, uncertainty, the one that struck her most though was fear – for the briefest of seconds before his expression went cold, she had seen a glint of fear in his eyes, the way they flickered briefly to their surroundings – to ensure they were alone.

"It doesn't matter." Was all he replied, devoid of emotion.

"It matters to me," Rey said softly as her gaze fell to the floor, "Whatever it was that I saw, whatever Snoke did to you with those black – _things_ – it was because of me."

When he said nothing in response she continued, "A week ago, heck, two days ago – I wouldn't have cared, I would've said you deserved it." She flinched at the harshness of her own words. "But now…not even you, Kylo Ren, deserve to be abused by your allies, by your teacher – the one who's supposed to guide you."

"As if you would know," he snapped angrily, "you've been alone all your life – no friends, no family, no teacher" – he sneered, "you know nothing Rey."

Uncharacteristic for Rey, she felt no anger towards him at those words – he was in defense mode, the walls he let down for her were snapping back into place, protecting him from the pain – the same loneliness that she felt everyday of her life – the same wish to belong somewhere.

"You're right." She said, "I don't know, but I do know how it makes me feel and I'm not going to deny it. I… I think you were tossed into a situation you couldn't control, that you didn't know how to control and somewhere along the line it turned you into the person you are now." She paused for a breath, grateful that he hadn't interrupted her yet. "I'm not saying your innocent and I'm not saying I forgive you but…I just…." With every word she felt like she was betraying her friends – Finn, Chewie, even the members of the Resistance she'd never met – but it was the truth, so she forced herself to continue. "I don't think you deserved what's happened to you and what's happening to you now."

Kylo was in a sort of stunned silence as she finished speaking, not sure how to respond or what emotion he should feel – anger, gratitude, confusion maybe? No one had ever spoken to him like this before, as if they were on equal footing – Snoke looked down on him, and all the others looked up, intimidated and fearful of the towering Force-sensitive in his black and chrome mask. He was still struggling with how to respond when she quickly spoke up again, abruptly changing the topic and somehow managing to sound mildly cheerful – he was grateful for the reprieve.

"So, where are we?" she asked with a hint of curiosity in her voice.

Kylo would've thought she'd figured that much out by now, so her question elicited a small chuckle from him – broad shoulders shaking slightly, dark thoughts temporarily forgotten – as he turned his gaze toward her once more.

"We're in my private quarters."


	8. Chapter 8

"We're in my private quarters."

Rey's eyes opened wide with surprise, a furious blush spreading over her cheeks as she absorbed that information. This was _his_ room, which meant she was currently sitting on and had previously been sleeping in – his bed.

Noticing the slight smirk on Kylo's face as he watched her – Rey ducked her head just to enough to hide behind her hair as she tried to regain some composure. Wishing in that moment, that she could leap off the bed - put some distance between them so he wouldn't notice her blushing. As it was though, trying to stand on her own again would probably backfire and he'd end up holding her again – _warm and protective, gentle and comforting_ , the thoughts came unbidden to her mind. She shook her head to clear _those_ thoughts – No, if he held her again then she wouldn't even be able to begin to hide her embarrassment.

A soft, barely audible, rumble of laughter from Kylo told her that any effort she was making to hide was ineffective and she cringed as she waited for him to point it out – to make fun of her childish response.

Kylo had only seen the blush on Rey's cheeks for a moment before she retreated behind the curtain of chestnut hair that now fell freely around her shoulders. The pure innocence with which she had reacted served to further lighten his mood; it reminded him of how young she must be – sometimes he assumed she was closer to his age because of how she stood up to him, how they usually stood on equal ground – but reactions like this told him another story.

He decided to spare her any more heartache though, as he stood up from the bed and walked towards the door with the keypad. The steel slid away, and he proceeded into the next room, retrieving the tray laden with fruits and breads that had been left by the waitstaff. Oddly proud of himself for being coherent enough to think of such a thing as breakfast after the previous evenings debacle, he moved to return to his bedroom.

Kylo was only gone for a moment before he reappeared in the doorway, hair thoroughly mussed from the way he'd fallen asleep and a thin silver tray with all sorts of colorful objects held out in front of him like a silent offering. Orange, red, even a rich deep blue and all different sizes, Rey couldn't take her eyes off whatever was in his hands. She didn't think she'd ever seen something so bright and beautiful.

He approached her then, placing the tray beside her before retrieving a chair from the corner of the room so he could sit by her side. She was still staring at the _color_ before her when he awkwardly cleared his throat and her eyes snapped up to meet his.

"Aren't you hungry?" he asked, a sort of wondering gaze in his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"You haven't touched your breakfast – in fact, you're staring at it as if it might bite you."

Her eyes flitted from his back to the tray that seemed to boast the entire visible spectrum, doubt evident in her tone as she asked,

"That's food?"

 _She doesn't know what fruit is_ , Kylo thought, realization dawning as her reaction finally made sense. She lived on Jakku, scavenged for portions – she probably only recognized yesterdays breakfast as food because of the smell. Used to water activated powders and meat supplements it only made sense that she would have no idea what he placed before her.

"Fruit," he said, "go on, try it." And he found himself gently pushing the tray closer to her, unintentionally eager to see her reaction.

She warily reached her hand towards the tray, selecting a bright red fruit, before bringing it up to her face. He could hear a light sniff as she inspected its surface like some dangerous animal.

"That's a blumfruit, they come from the forest moon of Endor." Kylo told her, awkwardly hoping that some background information would entice her to try it. He thought he should be impatient that she was taking so long to eat, but something nagged at his mind – begging patience. Normally he'd be loathe to listen, he was always shutting out rationality – favoring instinct and quick action. But this time it was instinct that bade him be silent, to let her take her time – such a simple thing, yet for Rey it was an introduction to an entire galaxy beyond her life on Jakku. It was clear in the uncertainty that painted her face as she slowly bit into the soft flesh of the fruit.

He watched, almost in awe, as the doubt quickly fled from her face; hazel eyes widening and mouth pulling up in a carefree grin as she ate the rest of the fruit.

"It's so sweet!" she exclaimed as she excitedly reached for another, this time opting for a slightly larger, reddish-orange piece.

"That ones a Muja fruit."

Her eyes were glistening with content as she continued to try the different colored fruits - never once did she reach for the bread he noted with interest.

"Aren't you going to have any?" she interrupted his analysis of her eating habits – "You said you exhausted yourself healing me…you must be starving."

There was an earnest look in her eyes as she looked back at him and it sated some unknown emotion within him to see her concern for him. He knew it was just her compassion speaking, but it temporarily filled an ever-present void, so he shrugged it off and reached for the tray; they'd picked it clean within a couple of minutes, silence reigning in his room as they sat, her on the bed, him beside her in a chair, partially facing each other – neither really knowing what to do or say next.

It was an awkward silence but Kylo was oddly content just to be in her company – without the usual hatred or loathing clouding her vision. The events of yesterday temporarily forgotten, Rey was relaxed and surprisingly comfortable despite his proximity. A slight grin still pulled at the corners of her lips, evidence that she'd fully enjoyed their meal as she leaned back against the headboard of _his_ bed, settling into _his_ sheets.

Kylo barely even noticed the blood that still crusted along the covers, as his eyes flitted over the scavenger before him. _No…Rey,_ he mentally reminded himself, _her name is Rey._ It wasn't that he didn't notice it before, rather he'd had his mind elsewhere - but now, in this peaceful moment, he couldn't take his eyes off her. The chestnut locks that, despite the blood-stained ends, still fell free and loose around her shoulders. Her skin, even under the bruises – smooth and tanned from years under the Jakku sun. Everything about her figure was lithe and graceful, the muscle built from tireless work hidden just beneath the surface. And the eyes, he couldn't get enough of their hazel depths; as much as he tried to shove the thoughts away, the little flecks of gold and green kept drawing him back in every time he looked at her.

 _Beauty,_ the word came unbidden to his mind as he mentally fought with himself to drag his eyes away, to look at anything else – but she was looking back at him, holding his gaze, and it might as well of been a trance for all the power he had. Her lips parted slightly as she drew in a breath, and he immediately focused on them – soft and pink, a slight split still marking the lower, Force how he'd like to –

A sharp intake of breath interrupted their silent reverie as Kylo's face contorted in pain and he grabbed at his skull with his hands. It was so sudden that Rey couldn't help herself as she quickly leaned forward, hands reaching out to steady him. She trailed her eyes over him, looking for some indication as to what was causing him pain.

"What happened?" she couldn't help the note of fright in her voice as she questioned him.

"It's nothing."

He was quick to brush off her hands as he stood up and walked towards the door as if nothing really had happened. She watched him closely, but he seemed completely normal again, cold, and reserved like he'd been in the beginning – like she kept expecting him to be. Her mouth settled into a frown at his sudden change in mood; he'd been open and gentle, but whatever that was – it took no time in reverting him back to his former self.

 _Maybe it was all just an act,_ she thought as he turned around to face her, features set in stone – giving absolutely nothing away.

"I have to go out."

"Where?"

His gaze fell for just a moment, a slight twitch in his jaw before he schooled his features and answered,

"It doesn't matter."

His tone said there was no discussion to be had, but the slight lapse in his mask was enough to tell her he was hiding something. Rey wasn't even sure why she cared – yes, he'd saved her life and taken care of her, but that wouldn't have been necessary if he'd never taken her in the first place. Still, his response left an unsettling feeling in her gut and she found herself not wanting to let him go. Something happened that caused this shift, she'd seen the pain flit across his features before he grew cold. _Why was he in pain? –_

 _Snoke._ Clarity came as she remembered how the ghoulish figure had rooted around Kylo's mind in the vision he'd showed her – how, even though he wasn't present, he'd manipulated the very air around him to cause Kylo pain. That revelation fueled a fear for him that she didn't think herself capable of.

She'd been silently staring at him for longer than he was comfortable with, multiple unknown emotions flitting across her features as she obviously struggled with what to say next. He was just turning back to leave again when her voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"You can't go! He'll kill you!"

A cold shiver travelled down his spine and at the same time, a warmth bloomed in his chest at her concern. How she figured it out so fast was a mystery to him – he'd tried to keep his face blank, give nothing away – he didn't want to frighten her any more than he already had. But it was too late to hide the truth, no matter how much he wanted to; Snoke had sent daggers into his mind from systems away, anger tangible in his mental presence as he'd summoned Kylo to him. There was no choice, while he didn't regret his actions, there was no escaping the atonement that awaited him for defying his master.

"No… he won't kill me." He said with his back still turned towards her, so she couldn't see the pained expression on his face – death might be preferable to what he knew awaited him; it would no doubt be much worse than all the times that came before.

"You'll be safe here." He added as he moved into the living quarters and towards the outer door.

"Will you be all right?" Rey's voice came soft and low from his bedroom and he was slightly grateful that her leg hadn't fully healed – that she couldn't stop him or make him turn around to face her. He could hear it in her voice, the fear, and he knew that if he looked back he'd be lost in her large hazel eyes – the bright flecks of green and gold reflecting care and concern he didn't deserve.

"Don't worry, I'll come back… I promise."

With those words he stepped over the threshold, disappearing from view as the cold steel slid back into place and a low, monotonous ring sounded throughout the room – signalling that he'd locked the door again.

 _He didn't answer the question_ , Rey thought – _he didn't say if he'd be okay_.

Guilt clouded over her. Somehow, she'd gone from hating Kylo Ren to feeling irrevocably culpable for the pain he endured at the price of keeping her safe. A few days ago, she would've shrugged it off, said that he deserved it – because he was a monster. Kylo had killed people – his father – _Han -_ but even then, all she could see when she thought of that moment on the catwalk was the intense, lost look that clouded his features, the hurt and loss that were clear in his eyes.

In the space of days, she'd come to realize that there really was a human behind the mask, and, that he was a lot like her – lost, confused – he felt abandoned by his parents who were never there, and with no one to rely on, he was manipulated by Snoke into thinking that physical and mental abuse were proper constructs of education. It sickened her to see how much the 'Supreme Leader' twisted his mind and beliefs.

But even under the influence of the Dark Side, even with all the whisperings and 'guidance' from Snoke – he managed to show her kindness. A girl that was supposed to be his prisoner, a subject for interrogation, yet he protected her, started to train her – he even killed for her. A heavy sigh escaped her lips at that thought – he'd killed allies to save her life and now… she could only imagine what horrors Snoke had in store for him – and it was all because of her.

A few silent tears made their way down her face as she violently tugged at her hair, frustrated at her lack of ability to do anything. The vision of Snoke torturing Kylo for not retrieving the map kept replaying itself in her mind – that had been bad enough, and now he would face repercussions for the deaths of General Hux _and_ a swath of stormtroopers. Kylo was facing punishment for saving her life and she found herself unable to quiet the raging emotions within.

She wasn't just afraid for him – there was anger too; a seething, hateful emotion directed towards the monster who would put so much effort into twisting and corrupting the mind of a lost boy. It was clear to her that Kylo Ren was more than his mask professed – so much more, and, after seeing Snoke's methods, there was no doubt in her mind that he was responsible for every awful thing Kylo had done. Rey didn't know much of anything about his past, but she knew that the eyes that looked at her with eager anticipation as she tried fruit for the first time did not belong – could not belong, to someone wholly evil. She wasn't naïve enough to fool herself into thinking he was innocent, of course he was ultimately the one making the decisions – carrying out the acts – but she found it wasn't to hard to understand why.

Images of endless sand and heat filled her mind as she thought about it. If anyone, anyone at all, had shown some interest in her, pretended to care – she would've jumped at the chance. It was painful to admit to herself that she could be so weak, even after all those hard years spent alone – but that was just it – she didn't want to be alone. She would've done anything, would still do anything, to know her family – to know belonging and acceptance – and she was sure that Kylo Ren thought he'd found that with Snoke, and maybe he still did. She couldn't deign to know what was truly going on in his mind, all she knew was what he'd shown her – a man willing to endure torture if only to be acknowledged – recognized – by the being he called his master.

Rey hadn't tried to keep track of the time as she let her thoughts and emotions roll around in her mind, but it must have been for the better portion of the day considering she didn't snap out of it until a service droid appeared with a tray of food. She watched from her position on the bed as it carefully placed the tray on the small dining table and moved to exit the room. There was a spark in her mind as she contemplated jumping the droid to escape; clearly Kylo had given it clearance and it would be all too easy to slip out the door behind it. It seemed ironic then, that the muscles in her leg chose that moment to throb slightly beneath the skin, it wasn't overly painful – but it was enough to remind her of how 'easy' an escape would be right now.

The door closed behind the droid, locking with its signature sound, and any chance she had slipped away. It didn't bother her though, not really – she didn't think she'd be able to leave without knowing what happened to Kylo. She was slightly disappointed with herself for feeling that way, but there was no one here to point it out, to judge her, so she chose to accept it as fact, resolving to wait patiently for his return – she was always waiting anyways, what would a little more change?

She'd pulled herself from the bed, slowly and carefully this time, to pad into the other room to retrieve her dinner. Now she was sitting silently in one of the high-backed chairs, ebony wood like most of the furnishings in his room, marvelling at the knowledge that he'd taken the time to consider her needs – again – despite the fact that he was walking towards who knows what. _Kriff, how am I supposed to hate him when he keeps showing me this compassion? –_ Rey thought as she took in this extension of his, what had he called them –

 _"_ _We're in my private quarters."_

 _Right, private quarters –_ she coughed as his voice, amused and a little too confident, echoed through her mind. She shook her head to try and rid those words from her mind. This room was much like the one that housed _his bed –_ another cough escaped her lips at that thought – the walls, cold and dark, another viewscreen set into one of them and the majority of the furniture made of the same dark wood.

At a loss for what to do with her time, she found herself slowly inspecting his quarters, putting as little weight on her injured leg as possible. There wasn't anything interesting or out of the norm until she reached the podium in his bedroom that she'd noticed earlier. Up close the object wasn't any easier to identify – it was mangled and melted into an unrecognizable shape and she wondered why Kylo could possibly want such a thing. She dismissed it quickly and proceeded to the other door leading off his bedroom, wondering what she would find.

"Oh." Escaped her lips as the door opened – she thought she might discover some deep dark secrets, after all, he had left her alone in his room without so much as a warning not to go snooping. So, while it should've been obvious, she still found herself semi surprised and a little disappointed to discover that the only thing hiding behind the door was a 'fresher.

She'd been wary, to leave herself vulnerable in this room, but ultimately the realization that, under her new clean clothes her skin was still stained with dried blood, convinced her to make use of the facilities.

Stepping out of 'fresher, her hair hanging damp and loose around her shoulders, the first thing she noticed was the bed. The sheets and covers had been replaced and the bed was now neatly made – someone had been there.

"Kylo?" she found herself asking the empty room, a flickering hope in her chest that he might've returned so quickly – that maybe his punishment wasn't as bad as she'd imagined.

Her face fell, and the heavy weight replaced itself in her chest after a few moments of silence had passed and she realized he wasn't there. _It must have been another service droid_ she thought as she noticed the stack of clothing on the edge of the bed. She approached cautiously, as if it were some sort of trick, and held up the items to inspect them.

There was a light-colored pair of sleeping shorts and a loose shirt to go with them, a few pairs of leggings, and multiple tunics. She didn't know how or when Kylo had the time to prepare this, but she knew without a doubt that it was he who, again, took the time to consider her – making sure she'd be comfortable while he was gone – as though it were his responsibility.

A small smile tugged at her lips, temporarily erasing the dread that had been eating away at her, as she slipped into the sleepwear. Exhaustion weighed on her mind despite the fact that she'd practically sat on the bed the entire day. It was more mental than physical anyway and she hoped that sleep would bring a reprieve – for a little while at least.

Her eyes trailed to the bed, now devoid of any evidence of what had happened to her, but she still couldn't bring herself to use it. There was no one there to see to see the furious blush that stole onto her cheeks as she thought about sleeping in his bed – she'd been unconscious and incoherent before, but now she was fully awake and the idea of sleeping where he slept thoroughly unnerved her. She'd never been in a situation remotely like this before and it didn't matter that she was alone, embarrassment still clawed at her.

Stealing the covers off the bed she made her way into the living space and curled up on the spacious divan that was set beneath the viewscreen. It wasn't as nice as the bed but she deemed it a much _safer_ choice.

It wasn't long before sleep took her, the gentle starlight soothing her mind, as her eyes closed, and her breathing deepened.


	9. Chapter 9

_Three days._

He'd been gone three days and Rey was beginning to go a little stir crazy. She hadn't been able to leave the room once, the only interruption to the silence being the service droid that brought her meals – other than that, nothing. She was alone, with no idea what was happening to Kylo. She thought maybe she'd be able to feel him, through the Force as he had felt her before – but there wasn't the slightest whisper.

Utterly alone and utterly trapped, all she could do was wait with baited breath, and it was killing her. Each day the cold walls seemed to creep in on her more and more and she found herself wishing for the vast open world of Jakku. Yes, she had been alone there as well – but at least she could move, run – forget, at least for a time. There was no escaping this situation though, the dread she felt reflected back at her from every direction; each muted color and simplistic yet effective design screaming Kylo Ren's name in her head.

Everything about his quarters spoke of necessity and efficiency – no boisterous furniture or lavish designs, everything done in darks and shades – lifeless – no personal touches even, save for the mangled object he kept in the corner of his bedroom. Rey found herself instinctively avoiding it, not allowing her eyes to wander over its melted and broken surface; something about it made her deeply uncomfortable, like she was looking back at something inhuman and wrong – monstrous. In fact, it wasn't at all unlike how she felt around Kylo when he wore his mask – as though everything that made him human disappeared, leaving a cold, empty, and unfeeling shell behind to wreak whatever havoc and pain it so pleased.

The deep mechanistic sound of his voice, distorted by the modulator, played through the back of her mind as she forced her eyes away from the obsidian podium on her way to the 'fresher. Being locked within Kylo's suite for days, she'd had practically nothing to entertain herself with – the daily shower that at first seemed like a luxury, was becoming second nature to her, not to mention a necessary reprieve from the hours of endless silence; the hours of not seeing anyone, not talking to anyone – or anything.

She noted, as she trained her eyes away, that the only part of his room that spoke of any sort of wealth or extravagance was the ebony headboard of his bed. It's intricacy had partially registered in her mind before – when she was pulled up against it in conversation with him, but it wasn't until now that she truly took in it's detail; the deep colored wood was scrolled and carved to resemble what Rey thought were waves – she'd never seen the ocean (any ocean), but in her dreams she imagined waters blue as sapphire and islands green as emerald – the gentle waves lapping at shorelines while, further out, large caps rose and crashed against each-other in tandem.

The carved peaks and hollows of the piece were even layered to give the depth of an endless ocean, like it wasn't just art – but a true representation of the sea itself. Rey found herself drawn to the elegant mixture of rough and smooth wood, the differing textures giving even more life and reality to what should have been such a simple object. She ran her fingers along its surface – taking in every groove and fissure, every swoop and swirl that was indicative of some new aspect of the wildness that was the ocean. She was alone, and she let her eyes wander over its surface as though it were a miracle – like endless hopes and dreams had just manifested themselves in Kylo Ren's quarters.

 _Kylo,_ it wasn't just her dreams that the headboard reminded her of, no – it was that day in the training room that seemed like so long ago but in reality, had only happened four days ago. Rey could picture it clearly in her mind as her eyes stayed glued to the carved wood – how Kylo's manifestation of the Force had appeared like dusky waves, swirling, and bathing his features as though it was water. Where she was surrounded with light, wispy energy – the Force curled around him, thick with emotion and viscous like water. It made her see that, of everything in these rooms, the headboard spoke of him the most. From what Rey could tell, this representation of the vastness of seas, which would look over him as he slept, was the only thing here that resembled the parts of himself he kept buried beneath the cold mask of Kylo Ren.

That realization made her want to learn more – to find out who Kylo truly was – maybe then she could connect his person to something else in his quarters, maybe then he wouldn't feel so dis-attached and distant from the reality that she had been thrown into when she left Jakku. Rey wasn't even embarrassed with herself that she'd spent Maker knows how long staring at a piece of furniture – the only thought in her mind was of him – who he was and… how he was.

She had to swallow back a lump of fear as she turned to the 'fresher once more. Every day he was gone made it harder to ignore why he was gone – what Snoke might be doing to him at this very moment. She only had the one memory to go off of, and if that served as any indication – she couldn't even imagine the pain he must be in at this very moment. Hating that she could feel concern for the man who killed Han Solo and countless others but absolutely loathing the fact that she couldn't feel him the way that he had felt her, she tried to push the thoughts out of her mind.

If she could do anything, anything at all, she would – but he'd left her trapped in here – with everything of his except for himself. He'd left her safe and secure, so he could face the punishment Snoke deemed worthy for his saving her.

A silent tear slipped down her tanned yet sallow cheek, wetting the lines on her face that spoke of conflict and guilt, as she pulled the bed coverings around her shoulders and settled into the divan. Curling arms around her long legs, Rey tried to bring forth the island, her solace – if only to quiet her emotions. Rationality battled her honest thoughts – conflicted emotions about how she should and how she did feel about Kylo Ren – as she pinched her eyes shut and tried to will herself to sleep. It felt like hours before her mind finally began to slow, her muscles loosening where they lay as the tension receded from her features and her eyes finally stayed closed of their own accord.

 _Four Days._

Rey sat, curled up in dark bedclothes, on the unwelcoming divan that had become her home. While the view above her through the glass was breathtaking – endless deep space, swirling stars lighting up the unknown – the divan itself was less than comfortable. Hard and flat, with no give, the surface, which appeared plush and inviting with its deep leather upholstery, had succeeded in riddling her muscles with knots and filling her bones with an ache worse than any she'd known on Jakku. Still, she stubbornly chose to continue sleeping on the dreaded furniture which didn't even compare to the makeshift bed back in her AT-AT.

Her meal deliveries were still the only interruption to her solitude, the service droid providing much needed breaks from the utter silence. Every time her meal arrived, the droid cleared away dishes with a little more food left on them – when it came tonight her plate would be taken from the room untouched and barely even looked at. Her appetite was continuously shrinking, the swelling fear and dread steadily taking its place within her body. She often felt sick to her stomach when she looked at her food – when she wondered if he had eaten, when she wondered if he were alive.

Even though she knew it was wrong, Rey would give anything just to know if Kylo Ren were alive. Her attitude and view of him so drastically different than before – she just wished she could hear some whisper, some indication in the Force that he was still breathing. With nothing else to do with herself, Rey spent hours just sitting there, curled up - trying to manifest the Force – to probe into it and utilize it to find Kylo. She wouldn't need much to put her mind at ease, but it didn't matter, because no sign ever came. No subtle flutter or silent flickering of life in the darkness, no recognition of his Force signature – nothing, everything she tried, everything she did – it all just ended up in more silence.

Silence surrounded Snoke where he sat, deep in contemplation; Kylo Ren was, for all intents and purposes – incapacitated, for the time being at least. Silent and immobile, encased in the darkness, he knew that if he deigned to return to the Finalizer that this is what he would find of his apprentice. The girl may have broken through his hold before, but she was still weak and unfocused – she would not break this spell.

He left him, four days past, the dark tightly wrapped around his limbs – burning reminders of his disobedience; Snoke wasn't particularly unhappy about the death of General Hux – but the loss of his military commander had been unexpected. Then there was the blatant rebellion that Kylo Ren had shown when he turned his back to his Master – that in and of itself was unacceptable. His apprentice would see the error in his ways after such a stasis – an endless sea of painful reminders of the past, his own foul deeds as well as the events of before, when he was known as Ben Solo. His eyes would not open and his mind would not surface until Snoke allowed it – until he was sure that the lesson had been stitched into every nerve, muscle, and bone in Kylo Ren's body – _he will learn his place._

The situation provided an opportunity however – Kylo Ren was, for the moment, out of the way; leaving this scavenger girl with such promise alone and unguarded. Her seemingly unwavering connection to the light side of the Force was troublesome though, and as a result, all his efforts to reach her – _to whisper –_ had been in vain. He needed a bridge if he were to enter her mind – a conduit of sorts to break through the veil. It would be by chance, he knew – a simple action on her part that would let him in, that would give him access. He would just have to wait and hope – something Snoke never did, never allowed himself to do, but the power that this girl could offer them elicited such a response in the twisted figure anyway.

 _Five Days_

It was becoming too much, or perhaps too little; too few sounds to interrupt the silence that all but enveloped Rey as she moved listlessly throughout Kylo's empty quarters. Her mind weighed down with impossible imaginings of the horror's that Kylo might be going through. Dark tendrils burned across the back of her mind as she continuously recalled the agony that had painted his face the last time he had seen Snoke.

She no longer cared that she wasn't supposed to feel this way; knowing what was happening to him took precedence over everything else. The guilt was gone, replaced wholly and completely by fear – and loneliness. It had been hard to accept, but Rey had no one to impress here – no one at all – and she had come to realize just how much she missed him. They'd barely known each-other for a second, but already, she felt a closeness with Kylo Ren that she'd never felt with anyone else before.

Finn and Han had showed her kindness, but so had Kylo, and she was beginning to understand how difficult that was for him – how much his position within the First Order, as Snoke's apprentice, practically forbade him from treating her the way he did – for saving her as he had. She missed Finn and Han for sure, but it was a dull ache and ever receding; they were her friends, but she had only known them just briefly, and their acceptance of her was easy – there were no underlying, drastic consequences attached when they protected her. Yes, the rescue mission had put them all in danger on Starkiller and had cost Han his life – a silent tear rolled down her cheek as she remembered his death - but the actual act of _knowing her_ wasn't dangerous. Kylo on the other hand – he knew what it would cost him to save her, Rey was sure of that; he knew the pain and torture that Snoke would have waiting for him – yet he did it anyway.

There was something, a familiarity she thought, that drew them together – a similar upbringing, a mirrored sense of complete and utter solitary in this vast galaxy that made it easier to understand each other – even to trust each other. She did, she realized, trust him – at least more than she had anyone else; despite their positions, he'd never lied to her, and he was right when she said she'd be safe here in his quarters – only the service droid broke the silence, rolling in the next meal and clearing the previous – which were now always, completely untouched.

Rey had managed on little and sometimes no food on Jakku – but the hunger was always there, it was never a choice not to eat but simply a lack of anything to eat. It was completely opposite now though, with plenty of highly flavoured and rich foods delivered directly to her – yet she couldn't bring herself to eat them. Her appetite was gone, and her insides seemed a hollow black pit. She wasn't purposefully starving herself, but even the thought of food was nauseating – so when the service droid appeared again, she shuffled off, lethargic and tired, to the other room so she wouldn't have to smell the vapours floating off yet another hot meal that she would be ignoring.

She closed the door behind her, tuning out the sounds of the droid as it underwent its monotonous task, and let her eyes drift around the room. Nothing had changed, no one had disturbed the covers on the bed and the obsidian podium still dominated one corner of the room. Normally she avoided its dark surface, but today something drew her in – like an invisible hand beckoning her forward until she was standing directly in front of it, fingers hovering just above the melted, ash grey metal of the object that Kylo obviously prized.

Unlike before, she took the time to observe, her trained eyes running over the interlocking parts and wires that had been exposed by the damage. Even melted and twisted as it were, it didn't take long for her to realize that she was looking at a mask – one not too unlike Kylo's – the voice modulator was easy to recognize now that she was looking for it. She didn't know its origins, who it belonged to – but it was technology, parts – and even in her depressed state her body reverted to muscle memory – wanting to pull it apart, to salvage what might still be useful. She was really only half aware of her fingers reaching, closing the distance – until her skin made contact with the rough surface.

 _Something_ shuddered through her veins, burning with an indignant purpose, stealing her thoughts and rationality – her mind instantly filled with countless reminders of how she'd been left alone in the desert. The ship that had brought her to the surface quickly peeling back out of the atmosphere as she screamed, Unkar Plutt's meaty hand holding her small arm back as she tried to give chase. The wall in the AT-AT walker that was almost completely white from the numerous, tightly packed scratches she made to count the days – the days she'd spent waiting for her family to come back to her. A younger Rey, silent tears leaving tracks in the dirt that coated her skin, the flight helmet pressed over the buns in her hair as she huddled, frightened and cold, inside her makeshift home while the howling winds of a desert storm threatened to tear everything to shreds.

 _Hate them._

The words flitted around inside her mind as she tried to beat back the painful memories. Hatred had never been something she'd felt towards her estranged family before, but the thought of it seemed to heat her blood – as though the emotion itself was enough to fight the hurt.

 _You should hate them for what they did to you._

Should she? Hate them for leaving her? Rey didn't know the reason, it could've been anything, but even then, in all the years that she'd spent scavenging to stay alive, not once had she come up with a valid excuse that would explain their absence for fourteen years. She'd been so young when they left her that she didn't even know her own age, nineteen was what she guessed – but she didn't _know._ They did that, her family – left her without another piece of information, another piece of herself.

Anger. For the first time that she could recall, Rey felt anger towards her past, towards the people who had abandoned her – could she even call them family? What if she'd never had one to begin with? What if she'd been tossed aside at birth, and then again on Jakku? She couldn't remember anything before the sand, before the scorching sun – so she had no idea, and it was infuriating.

It was like a red fog, slowly rolling in from the black depths of her mind to settle across her vision, across her thoughts. It clouded the feelings she'd held on to for so long – sadness, longing, the need to be accepted – and replaced them with a steadily rising rage that seemed to boil the blood in her veins. She _wanted_ to hate them, curse her family for abandoning her to such a harsh and unforgiving life. What could such a young child have done to deserve being tossed aside as she had? There was no excuse.

It was as though something, or someone was there with Rey – silently goading her on every time the hate reared up, fresh and stronger than before, inside her mind. As though that was the goal – to replace everything inside with white hot rage, to alter her perception of the world – to change her very beliefs.

 _You should hate them for what they made you become._

The next set of echoing whispers that penetrated her thoughts was like a bucket of ice had been dumped on her, the haze clearing from her mind as reason slowly returned to her thoughts.

 _No, that's not right. This isn't right._ She didn't hate who she'd become, so she couldn't hate them for it. No, her life may have been hard – dreadful at times – but she was indignantly proud of the fact that she didn't _need_ to rely on anyone else, that she didn't _need_ anyone else's help to survive. Rey may have spent her entire life wanting to be accepted, included – loved – but she didn't need it.

These thoughts didn't belong to her, they couldn't belong to her – not while they contradicted the one thing about herself that she held on to so tightly. That realization had the darkness peeling itself from her mind, the torturous reminders leaving as quickly as they came as Rey slowly reopened her eyes. Everything in the room was still the same and her hand still rested lightly on the sooty surface of the unknown mask.

Her previous avoidance of the mask, the unwillingness to even glance in that general direction, had been well warranted it would seem. She didn't know why she saw what she saw and thought what she did – but it was obviously connected to this object, cold and dead under her fingers. She wanted to be as far from it and whatever it had done to her as possible, yet she still proceeded with a slow caution as she carefully removed her digits, one by one, from its surface.

Glossy and black, the material shone as if it were brand new in five perfect ovals that marked where the tips of her fingers had rested. Rey stared, both in awe and fright, between her fingertips and the mask; where the material looked fresh and renewed, the pads of her fingers were rimmed with an angry red, the skin slightly puckered as if it were burnt. They stung slightly as she touched them together – thumb to each finger – testing them.

She didn't know what it meant, and in that moment, she wasn't sure she wanted to find out.

If Snoke and Kylo Ren had similar personalities, the Supreme Leader's ship would be in ruins – consoles sliced and melted, doors Force pushed off their hinges, entire decks collapsed from sheer rage alone. He was not like Kylo Ren however, the utter silence and outward serenity indicative of that fact.

Everything around Snoke was in perfect order, not an object disturbed, but inside his mind was a different matter. No progress had been made with the scavenger – he sought to twist her past until he could use it to motivate her towards their cause. It had been working, or so he had thought, but as quickly as he'd made a connection with her – she'd managed to push him back. She wasn't aware of why she heard the whispers that she did, of that much he was certain, but he had been wrong to assume her distaste with her current person. Careless, is what it was; an excitement he hadn't felt in literal ages had filled him as he witnessed her accepting and harnessing the darkness of rage and hate – so hopeful that his plan would proceed much quicker than anticipated. But it had all but backfired with that one misstep and he was livid – furious with himself for once, instead of his favorite scapegoat – Kylo Ren. He'd almost forgotten about his apprentice, not bothering to check just how much pain and torment his powerful extension of the Force was causing.

Perhaps he had gone about winning over the girl the wrong way – perhaps she required a more, indirect, method of persuasion. He allowed his mind to drift towards his apprentice then, taking in the darkly dressed figure where he knelt – many systems away – encased in darkness. A crooked grin painted Snoke's features as he watched and planned. He was always planning something.

 _Six Days._

Dark hair, soft curls – a pale, drawn face with too-big ears and a large awkward nose. Deep, almost black eyes, that bored into their surroundings – observing, recognising the masses of bodies swarming around, doing their duties. So many people, so many faces – but never the ones he was looking for.

 _Alone._

 _No one cares._

 _They never really loved me._

Silent whispers echoed through the dream, filling the gaps and dark spaces in her periphery – telling Rey things that he had only ever thought. His eyes never stopped searching, no matter where he was – where she saw him. It seemed he was always waiting for someone to show up – to take an interest.

The vision shifted and again, Rey was met with his solemn stare as he watched three figures turn their backs to leave him. First, a man – Rey had always assumed he was his father but now she knew for sure that it was the truth - the silhouette showing her his back, even at this significantly younger age was, without a doubt – Han Solo; side by side with Chewie as they approached the Falcon together.

And then a woman she assumed was his mother, General Leia Organa she now knew; someone Rey had never actually seen – leaving aboard another ship – _some new government matter that needed tending to_ – the words whispered in her mind, explaining. It was never him that they were going to see, it was only when their business Force knows where was finished and they had nothing left to do that they would drag themselves back to him and their seemingly always empty home – or at least that's how it had always felt.

The scene shifted again, and this time, both his parents were there, paying attention for once – but their eyes were filled with fear and apprehension. Even as a bystander Rey could tell they were afraid of their son. She could see the pain that he'd never let rest on his face now, but was so clearly painted on his features then – how much he wanted them to just accept him, love him.

Another shift and she was watching them leave again, side by side with the maturing boy, some formidable temple dominating the background. Their separate crafts lifted up and out of the atmosphere with no hesitation and he was left alone - again. Other kids and adults surrounded him every day, but no one – not even his uncle - really paid him any mind. They turned their gazes in fear of this newcomer, or whispered under their breath about his awkward features and strange demeanor. They admonished him for being so skilled with the Force – they tried to squander him, control him; never allowing him to utilize his powers. Isolated and alone in a sea of people that should've been just like him – a sea of people where he could find no belonging, only hatred and anger. Where his only friend, his only solace was the creeping night that whispered of greatness, of acceptance – of a new life.

Everything started melding together then, multiple images and emotions flitting across the backs of Rey's eyes as she struggled in her sleep. She could see the growing fear on the other kids faces, a burning temple, ever present darkness – rage. The rage and hate he felt grew stronger with each new image – death, destruction, blood and –

Her eyes snapped open, breath rapid and uneven as she quickly sat up against the viewscreen, her legs hung over the side of the divan. It wasn't the first time she had seen visions like these, his memories – _were they? Was she actually seeing Kylo's memories in her dreams?_ – but it was the first time she knew _who_ she was seeing. It was the first time that she recognized the players – the first time that she recognized Kylo Ren… - or Ben Solo? – as the young man at their center. It all made sense now, why she'd thought all along that they had something in common, how she knew that he felt just as abandoned and unloved as her – he'd never told her, a part of her had just known – from the moment he'd first removed his helm.

It was too much, too fast and she found herself quickly stumbling over the covers and into the 'fresher. If she'd had anything in her stomach it would have come up, but the lack of food resulted in what felt like an endless spell of dry heaving. Feeling all those emotions about his past, the pain he went through – how similar they had viewed everything and everyone, how isolated they had both felt. Knowing, for the first time, that the boy she had seen in her dreams for years was the same man who took her prisoner, was holding her captive – and, was most likely in unimaginable pain while he endured burning torture as punishment for protecting her. _The unknown boy she had seen for years could be dying…because of her._ Her weak body couldn't handle the shock of that revelation and she quaked where she knelt on the cold floor of the 'fresher.

Wiping her mouth as she stood up to take in her reflection, she was frightened by the face that peered back at her. In all her years on Jakku, she had never seen herself look so dead and hopeless. Sallow skin and deep purple bags under her eyes attested to the lack of sleep and nutrition she'd been getting. Her hair was unkempt and mussed, she no longer concerned herself with putting it in buns – or even running her fingers through the long and now dull, chestnut locks. Rey looked as sick as she felt, and she hated herself for being so weak – for caring so much, so fast. It didn't make sense, she didn't want to feel this way – but it was undeniable. Kylo Ren was the only reason she was falling apart at the seams. The only reason the multitude of tears she'd been holding back came rushing down her face, soaking her tunic as her uncontrollable sobs filled the empty rooms.

 _Seven Days_

The clothes he'd prepared for her hung a little loser on Rey's malnourished body; three, soon to be four full days with no food taking its toll on her health. She rarely left the divan; too tired to move around, she hid beneath the stolen covers willing herself to sleep – to pass the empty time away, so she wouldn't have to think.

She tried to eat her dinner when it arrived, but the singular bite she managed to take was met with another wave of nausea, another surge of guilt. Pushing the tray away from her, she pulled her legs back up against her chest, head tucked against her knees and hair forming a veil around her features – the dark ends tickling her shins where they fell on the thin fabric of her leggings. She heard her rapid breathing more than she felt it, as she dropped to her side – limbs in the same position and pulled the covers over herself, willing her mind to calm as she did so.

She fell asleep like that, curled up at one end of the divan – the starlight that streamed in above her painting the floor in its radiant glow and shrouding her in shadow where she lay beneath the viewscreen.

It was late into the Finalizer's night when Kylo Ren returned to his quarters, removing his helm as he stepped into the dark room – the stars illuminated the room just enough to provide a slight outline of the furniture. He'd left Rey alone in here for almost seven full days, with no indication as to when he'd return – because he hadn't known himself. He'd imagined what Snoke would do – but he didn't know the extent of the Supreme Leaders rage – he had failed him. There was no regret in protecting Rey, he only wished he could've done so without defying, without disappointing his master.

So many days reliving the past – that pain, remembering how the only one who'd been by his side through it all was Leader Snoke. For almost seven full days he had knelt in the great receiving chamber, completely unaware of the world around him – completely closed off to the outside. He'd lived in his mind completely – his body put into a sort of stasis, a power that he'd never seen Snoke use before – that he never wanted to see again.

He had to do better, he had to find a way to ensure that he never disappointed Snoke again, that he never let his allegiance falter. Rey wouldn't understand, she couldn't understand – but Kylo knew he couldn't fail him again – he wouldn't fail him again. He wanted so desperately to keep her safe and protected, but he didn't know, if push came to shove, who he would choose the next time such a pivotal decision had to be made.

One thing Kylo did know, was that he wanted to see her – the scavenger girl who had turned his life upside down, the wild thing he'd let roam free in his private rooms for a week – he wanted to see Rey.

Leaving his helmet behind, he moved into the bedroom only to find the bed stripped and bare, the 'fresher empty – Rey was gone.

"No."

 _No, no, no_

Despair flooded through him instantly. He'd promised she would be safe – where was she, had Snoke sent more men in here after he left? Had he blocked her so Kylo wouldn't feel her pain this time? Had she run – escaped? He didn't want to believe that she would leave after what they had experienced together, but his rationality was fading. Emotions always ran high within him, engulfing everything else in their sheer mass – he couldn't think straight, the idea of her being gone wrecked him.

Anger and loss swirled within him as his breath quickened, he was fuming as he stalked out into the living room, lightsaber drawn and ignited – ready to tear down the walls as he had done the last time she'd left him.

He was just about to start swinging when the harsh, burning red glare of his blade cast itself on the dark space beneath the wide viewscreen – illuminating a huddled mass of covers; dark linens which belonged on his bed, that rose and fell slightly in a steady rhythm. He quickly extinguished the saber and, in the dead silence he could hear the sound he had previously ignored – the deep sound of her breathing where she lay, curled up, on the ebony hued divan.

 _She was still there._

 _Rey was still there._

He breathed a sigh of relief, slightly embarrassed at his outburst and intensely grateful that she had not woken to see him, for the first time in seven days, holding his wildly burning lightsaber just a few feet from her. Carefully and quietly, he padded across the floor towards her, so he could gaze upon her features – to ensure she was truly there.

She was curled up tightly, he could tell, under the covers; legs pressed to her chest, her face half obscured by the chestnut locks that flowed past her shoulders. He loved seeing her hair down and free, how softly it lay against her tanned skin. But, from what he could see, her once bright skin was dull and sallow. The half of her face that was exposed looked thinner than it had when he'd left, a deep purple half moon marring the space beneath her eye – he knew it wasn't a bruise, they'd been almost healed when he left. No, something else caused this, there was another reason she looked so sickly.

His eyes fell then, on the discarded tray of food – shoved to the furthest side of the room's small table. It was untouched, the food now cold, undisturbed, everything in it's place. It didn't take him long to figure out that she wasn't eating – but he didn't know why. Perhaps she'd been looking for a way out, surely there were other ways? But he couldn't think of another reason that she'd throw away her health, another reason she would starve herself. He only knew that, from now on, she would eat, even if he had to force the food down her throat himself. Kylo couldn't stand the sight of Rey – so strong and unbreakable, now wilted, and weak. Kylo wouldn't wake her now though – he'd let her sleep. _He_ needed sleep; utterly exhausted, he might have been in a dream state for the past week, but he hadn't actually gotten any rest.

Despite it's being devoid of covers, Kylo dropped straight onto his bed, still fully dressed – sur-coat, gloves, boots – even the cowl, now loose around his shoulders. His breath deepened, and his dark eyes closed as he fell asleep almost the second he hit the mattress – so drained that his mind fell quickly into a black oblivion, affording him a rare, dreamless, and peaceful sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

Something was different.

Something had changed.

From the moment Rey woke, still huddled under the dark bedding, she could feel something – someone nearby; like a spark in her veins, she suddenly felt alive for the first time in a week. The very air surrounding her told her that she wasn't alone, vibrating with an energy that she recognized immediately; an energy she'd been searching for with her mind but could never find– as though a barrier had been erected between her and him.

 _Kylo_

She could feel him; how close he was – just a few steps away in the other room, a singular wall in-between them.

 _He's alive._

But she had to be sure, she had to see him – had to know that he was okay. Stripping the covers off, Rey wasted no time as she approached the room, stopping in the doorway as she caught sight of him sitting on the edge of his unmade bed. He looked –

 _Normal_

Apart from his mussed hair and slightly skewed clothes he appeared just the same as she had seen him several days prior. He didn't look starved, injured, or tired – he looked as if he'd just woken up from any ordinary sleep, as if he'd been there the whole time and he'd never left to go and face Snoke.

That was when his head swiveled round to face her, his eyes instantly locking onto hers as he stood from the bed – quietly waiting for her to say something.

He knew it was bad just from seeing part of her face last night, but now, as Rey stood in front of him – eyes wide in fear or wonder he couldn't tell – it was clear just how sick she'd made herself. Her chestnut waves hung wildly around her thinned face, unkempt and knotted instead of thick and shiny as it had been before he left. Her skin held only a hint of tan beneath the pale and sallow tone it had taken on, and her eyes seemed sunken into her face, the dark circles lining them making them look smaller, duller. The bright flecks of gold and green that had lit her eyes before had vanished, making them appear grey-brown when he knew full well that they were meant to be the brightest hazel he had ever seen.

The Rey before him was not the Rey he had left behind, she seemed a pale specter – imitating the girl that had been there before. Kylo didn't know what to say, what to do, he figured she was pissed – but then, the look that passed over her face as she stared back at him didn't look angry. It was relief. The eyes that had been wide with – fear? Was she frightened of him? For him? – softened and relaxed as she inhaled as though she hadn't breathed in ages; a deep shuddering breath that seemed to rack her lungs and then –

She was running at him.

His whole body tensed immediately, expecting an attack. He should've expected it, anticipated –

She barreled into him - thin arms wrapped around his abdomen, nails burrowing into the fabric of his surcoat as she forced the distance between them to close. She pressed her thin face into the fabric at his chest, hiding her expression from him, breath slowing as she clung to him.

Kylo did NOT know what to make of this. He wouldn't have been surprised to be met with anger or confusion, maybe even sadness – she had seemed desperate as she asked him not to leave, and he had been gone for seven days. But he never would have anticipated Rey, the girl who was once supposed to be an enemy – launching herself into him, holding him in the tightest embrace he had ever felt. It was more forceful even, than the bindings Snoke so enjoyed, thrumming with the anger and hatred of the dark side.

He stood stock still, with his arms out in front of him, hovering there – not sure where to place them. He couldn't drop them with Rey's arms around his waist, but was it okay to do what he wanted? Was it okay to hold her as she held him? He didn't even care that she was pressing in on fresh burns, he blocked out the stinging pain – it was worth it for this. Kylo didn't want to think about it anymore, he didn't care if she reacted badly, all he knew was that Rey was here, pressed against him and he wanted –

No, he needed to hold her close, to assure himself that she was still there, that she was real and alive despite how much her sickened appearance scared him.

"You're back." Her words, quietly whispered like a prayer against chest, he felt her breath where it warmed the clothes and skin underneath – the last push he needed.

His arms went around her shoulders, pulling her even tighter against his body, as he pressed his face against her hair. Despite its untidy appearance, the strands that tickled his scar were fresh and clean and smelled of soap. He breathed her in, feeling every part of her where she fit against him – assuring himself that she was, indeed, okay. He'd been punished for days on end, yet at the sight of her, it all seemed to fall away – the memories, the burns, the pain. His only concern was her.

Dropping his hands so they rested on her biceps, he slowly, gently, pushed her away from him, so he could look at her once more.

He could've done anything, or said anything, yet, as he peered down at her, a gentleness in his features that spoke nothing of his position, all he said was six simple words.

"Rey, why haven't you been eating?" there was a careful note in his voice as he asked the question, as though he wasn't sure he was allowed to know such things, but she could see the resolve harden in his eyes, as his grip grew tighter around her arms.

"Tell me, please."

She turned her face from his, in embarrassment or shame she wasn't sure, and he dropped his hands, so she could step away, turning her back to him as she did so. Rey didn't want to tell him the truth, but she couldn't deny her appearance or the full tray from last night still perched at the edge of the table. How was she supposed to explain to him, to this person she was supposed to hate that she hadn't eaten, that she couldn't eat because of him – because she was sick with worry, fear – guilt?

She could feel his eyes on her, training on her fists as she clenched them – ragged and bitten nails biting into her skin. There was no use in denying the truth, and she tried the best she could to keep her voice steady as she spoke, wincing slightly as her voice cracked with tears.

"You…it's…was…because of you."

"What?" his voice, pained and ragged even with just one word, came from behind her and she was quick to turn back towards him. His face was ashen, like she'd just stabbed him in the gut.

"No, I… I didn't mean it like that, I" –

She took a deep breath, grateful that he stayed silent while she collected herself – if she was going to manage, it would have to come all at once or not at all.

"Every time the meals came I tried to eat, I tried to force the food down, and every time it got a little bit harder until I couldn't stomach it anymore. I'd see the food and I felt sick with guilt, nauseated because I was here, and you were…were _there._ You were gone, and all I could imagine was those _things_ holding you, torturing you because of me – because for some reason you decided to protect me, to go against your allies to keep me safe. I did this. I'm the reason you were gone for so long and even then, you made sure I would be safe here – clothes, food, security – all the while Snoke was doing, Maker knows what to you."

She took a shuddering breath then, before she finished, not caring that fresh tears were making tracks down her face as she did so.

"I couldn't eat because I was sick with guilt and fear that you weren't eating, that you were in pain, that you might be…. Dead."

Kylo listened to her words, shock steadily building in his chest as he did so. She felt, guilty? Because he had killed the people he had forcibly brought her too. Because he had taken her prisoner and his leader, the Supreme Leader had ordered Hux to beat her half to death. If anyone was to blame it was _him_ , for the pain he had caused _her-_ for taking her against her will, for throwing her into the First Order's world without thinking of the consequences. Yet here she was, gaunt and broken – tears freely streaming down her face, no longer trying to hide her emotions as she told him that _she_ felt guilty. That it weighed on her so much, that she held so much fear that the simple act of eating had made her sick.

No one had ever cared this much, not even his parents, but here was Rey, who cared to the point of making herself sick, for the man who took her away from everything. He was still staring silently back at her, eyes wide with surprise and some other emotion, when a mechanical sound drifted through the room, admitting a service droid with a tray full of breakfast foods.

He shook his head to clear his mind, mussed hair tossing back and forth as he did so, as the droid menially replaced the dinner tray and rolled itself back out of the room. He looked towards her then, hoping he wouldn't upset her any more when he asked,

"Will you eat now Rey?" –

"Please."

A pause as she hastily wiped her tears with the back of her sleeve before showing him a small smile.

"Only if you eat too."

She'd meant what she said, and waited for him to eat the first bite of fruit before she tucked in. Seeing him before her – seemingly healthy and unhurt, eating their shared breakfast – she found it all too easy to indulge in the food that was placed before her. She didn't feel sick as she had before, the fruits and bread going down easily, her empty stomach relishing in their nutrition. But even then, she felt uneasy as they cleaned the tray of it's contents; she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him over the past seven days. He'd been gone so long yet he looked just the same, he didn't even seem tired. She kept that thought to herself though, not wanting to push him for answers, as he stood from his place at the table.

"I'll return later but for now I have to sort out…. deal with, well… _ugh_ " he grunted as he struggled to explain what he meant, running his hand through his dark locks in frustration.

"Force." He visibly cringed. "I have no idea what happened, who was put in charge of military operations after… Hux, so I suppose I have to go and find out…."

Despite the reasoning as to why Kylo was in the dark, Rey couldn't help but be amused at the strained note in his voice at the thought of confronting the new Hux and she – _giggled._ His eyes turned to her, not in anger but in simple disbelief at what he was hearing, but she couldn't help it. In that moment he sounded so much like a teenage boy dreading his list of chores that she couldn't help but crack a small smile.

It was beautiful, hearing her giggle like that – even if it was at his expense. Already she was looking more like the girl he knew; her eyes shone a little brighter, the gold returning to their depths and the smile across her face lit her features, making her skin look a little less pale, a little less sallow. He attempted a frown, but couldn't help the small twitch at the corner of his mouth that meant he was suppressing a grin, as he donned his cloak and retrieved his helm.

" _When_ will you be back?" she asked with emphasis on the word.

He paused in the process of placing the metal contraption over his features,

"Before dinner."

He finished obscuring his face with the mask and stepped out into the fluorescent lit hallway, turning back to meet her eyes once more before he left, and turning away when he remembered how much she hated staring back at the dark pits where his eyes should be.


	11. Chapter 11

"Mitaka?" he questioned of Phasma, as he tried to put a face to the name.

"Yes, sir, promoted from the rank of lieutenant, here, on the Finalizer."

Kylo groaned inwardly; why was a lieutenant given the position of general? Why give someone so far down the chain of command a position that, in some ways, equated with his own?

"Tell me Captain, why this lieutenant was given a position that should belong to you?"

While he wasn't one for praise or recognition, he at least knew Phasma, knew that she would obey his orders and wouldn't try to undermine him as Hux had; not to mention that she was ruthless; willing to carry out any mission. He clenched his fists, grateful that no one could see the irritated twitch in his jaw as he waited for what better be a damn good answer. He'd controlled himself around Rey, but the past week had taken its toll – and he was ready to 'delegate' the pain and frustration that clouded his mind onto any unsuspecting person who dared anger him.

"I refused it. I am more suited to my current position than that of the…late general. The Supreme Leader also agreed that my talents are better suited for direct leadership of the stormtrooper forces. Politics and PR are things I do not excel in, and I can accept that."

The captain was right, he knew – asking her to be the face of the First Order, taking her away from her current position - it would be like asking a pilot not to fly - so he remained silent, brooding behind his metal façade as he waited for her to continue.

"Lieutenant, now General, Mitaka was chosen as an intermediate because of his impressive performance thus far. He also graduated top of his class in the Academy."

"Intermediate?"

"Should the Supreme Leader deem someone else worthy of the position, he will, without hesitation, replace Mitaka's status as lieutenant. For now, though, he doesn't have enough faith in the generals leading the other Star Destroyers."

"Our leader was very forthcoming with you, it would seem." Kylo stated, an inquisitive note in his voice. Snoke was never one to explain himself in great detail, to lay out the inner workings of his plan – he kept his motives close, rarely even did he speak of them to Kylo.

"That is all he said… Perhaps you would like to speak with the new general now sir? Although, if memory serves, you've already met."

He couldn't discern the inflection in that last statement through the tinny, metallic sound of her voice, distorted by the chromium plated helmet, but he could have sworn it held a hint of amusement. He already hadn't been looking forward to this change of hands that he caused, but he dreaded it even more now. He turned away from the captain then, leaving her where he had interrupted her patrol, and continued his path to the bridge.

The pale, sweaty and quaking excuse for a man that was General Mitaka stood before him, hand outstretched in a greeting that looked as though it caused him physical pain. Here was his closest thing to an equal within the First Order ranks and he was quivering with fear. Kylo couldn't fathom how he'd been top of his class, not to mention that his so called 'impressive performance' included NOT retrieving the droid back on Jakku. It didn't take Kylo long to figure out what Phasma had meant earlier, when she said they had already met, after that thought had crossed his mind - the memory quickly coming back to him.

 _Kriff_ he thought, as he recalled the quiet and hesitant voice interrupting his silence, informing him that they hadn't recovered the BB-unit holding the map to Luke Skywalker on Jakku, that FN-2187 had helped to ferry it away. His anger replayed vividly in his mind as he saw slash after slash of his lightsaber against the consoles and screens he had been previously viewing – hot metal falling to the grated floor beneath him as he relentlessly tore through his surroundings, wishing they were the deserter – the traitor. He cringed beneath his mask as he heard the strained and almost embarrassed tone of his voice through the modulator – _anything else?_ He'd asked, only to whip around and use the force to choke the man before him now – Mitaka - when he mentioned that they had help from a _girl_. He felt his gloved fingers closing around this small man's throat as he continued to let his emotions escape him, dragging the unsuspecting lieutenant across the room – _what girl?_ – he'd questioned, venom in his voice – and received only the blandest of answers. _A scavenger from Jakku, young as far as our troopers could tell. That's all we know._ The words had been strangled and difficult as he struggled for breath against Kylo's grip, and he'd let him go. The fact that he managed not to choke the life out of him, swallowing his anger enough to send him away and out of his reach, was the only reason he managed not to choke on his tongue in embarrassment as he stood there, looking down on his new…partner was it?

He was grateful for the mask covering his features, hiding the stark realization and childlike shame that he hated to admit was plastered all over his face at that moment. Anger was a tool that made him stronger, it deepened his connection and affinity with the dark side, but he hated that he couldn't control himself, hated that he still broke out in tantrums that would rival any child.

Gritting his teeth and finally snapping back to reality, he clasped the shaking hand of the new general. The man's eyes still spoke of fear when he met his gaze, but his voice was surprisingly steady when he formally introduced himself.

"Dopheld Mitaka."

.

.

He had to restrain himself, laughter suppressed into a smirk as they both withdrew. What in Maker's name was going on with these titles? First…Armitage, now Dopheld – where did one even come up with such a name? He found himself grateful, for the first time, that he'd been given such a simple name, even if he'd thrown it away, even if it had held so many implications and expectations. _Ben_ – named after a Jedi master, the weight it had put on his shoulders as a boy had always been too much for him to bear, a pressure to be someone he couldn't. The irony was not lost on him just how opposite he'd become from his namesake; he knew that, in some ways, the name was part of the reason he ended up here – part of the reason he was now known as Kylo Ren, and the mere mention of his former name was considered a treasonous act.

He didn't have high expectations for…Dopheld and his quivering, but anyone would be better than pompous, arrogant…sadistic Hux, or at least, that's what he allowed himself to hope.

He met the service droid at the entrance to his quarters, relieving it of it's burden before he entered the room. The lights were dim, and he could make out Rey's sleeping form on the divan as he deposited the tray on the small table. He imagined that, despite the full nights sleep she had before, this was probably the first true rest she'd had in days – her body finally getting a chance to recover from it's malnourished state that the lack of food had caused. He was half inclined to let her sleep, but he needed to be sure she was eating enough, so, without any further hesitation, he gently reached out – crouched beside the leather sofa – to touch her arm, giving her a gentle shake as he spoke her name.

"Rey, Rey, it's time to wake up."

She hadn't been having a nightmare, yet his voice and soft expression as she opened her eyes to meet his gaze were exactly like the last time he'd woken her. When he'd interrupted the painful dream filled with memories of Jakku and its desolation – when she was still restrained to that cold metal platform, back in the interrogation cell.

"What is it?" she asked sleepily as she sat up, the covers falling around her waist.

"Dinner." A small smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he offered his hand to her. She took it without hesitation, not surprised for once at her willingness to be near him, and he drew her up off the leather and towards their shared meal.

It had shocked him to see how sickly Rey had become during his absence, but what surprised him even more was how quickly she was coming to look like her old self. Already the color had returned to her skin, the dark circles beneath her eyes were all but gone and, despite her thinned stature, she held herself straight, the proud posture he was used to restored. And her hair, _force her hair_ , it was still down but she'd obviously done something to it. No longer knotted and messy, the dark waves caressed her shoulder blades like soft and silent whispers, ghosting along the light-colored fabric of the long-sleeved shirt she wore. He found himself wanting to run his fingers through the soft locks more than ever before – it was all he could do to grip the back of the chair he pulled out for her instead, his hold threatening to splinter the wood with its pure force.

"Are you all right?" she asked, and he noticed her eyes were trained on his knuckles, the skin there now white with strain.

 _Kriff, when had he removed his gloves?_

"I'm fine." He muttered, releasing the chair, and stepping around the table to take his own seat.

"How are you feeling, Rey?" It was meant to deflect her focus from his… odd behavior, but he was also genuinely concerned. He couldn't discern what was going through her mind just by looking at her, and, after being separated for such a time, he found himself needing to know – and it had to come from her directly.

She still looked genuinely surprised to hear the note of concern in his voice, yet he wasn't sure why; it's not like he'd being trying to hide that he cared about her – she wouldn't be here, practically living in his solitude, if he didn't. But it was there, every time, the slight disbelief that he, or anyone, he suspected, gave a damn. It pained him he realized, to know that she was so damaged that the mere thought of anyone caring about her health, her safety, was inconceivable to her.

…

"Umm…better."

.

.

"Okay… honestly? I feel fine, but I'm going kind of crazy. I've been pacing around these rooms for almost eight full days and while they're extravagant and splendid – it's getting old. It GOT old, really quick. I need to do something Kylo…please, anything." Her voice tapered off at the end of her speech, becoming low and strained – indicating just how honest she was being, and he could see it in her eyes – like a wild animal that had been trapped, searching for its way out.

Kylo found himself almost ashamed that the first thing that stood out was how she described his quarters. _Extravagant_ , she'd said – but in the scope of the First Order they'd be considered simple, essential, and possibly even, bland. That was what he'd wanted, still wanted – grand aesthetic displays of wealth and power had never done anything for him, if anything it slightly repulsed him. The fact that she'd named grand his version of simple only served to further solidify just how barren and desolate a life she had lived before.

He didn't want to shower her in pity though, for the life she had lived – something told him that she would do anything but appreciate it. Strong and _almost_ unbreakable – that was Rey, she didn't need him looking down on her, consoling her for a life that she'd already lived through – already managed to survive. No, it wouldn't do to dwell on her past, he'd be much better off addressing the here and now, the Rey that sat before him – fire burning in her eyes as they bore into his own, silently pleading with him.

"I'm sorry Rey… when I left, I didn't know that it would be for so long." A pause then, "If that's what you need, then so be it – but we'll be eating our meal first."

They stood, side by side, just inside the expansive training room where the soft light of distant stars mixed with the harsh glare of the fluorescents lining the curved walls; Kylo in his usual brooding silence while Rey was practically bouncing up and down – energy rolling off her in waves, penetrating the air around them. She hadn't been exaggerating before, when she said she was going crazy – it was clear in her excitement at just being in the wide, open space. He wasn't sure what she was ready for though, knowing she wanted to let loose – but unsure of her physical state. Thus, the awkward silence he found himself unable to break, jaw twitching as he opened and closed his mouth, at least a dozen times, with unspoken words. At least, that was until her eyes fell on the rack of blunted training weapons lining the wall, before turning to meet his own, a hopeful expectation in their depths.

"Can we…?" her voice trailed off before she could finish the question, her feet already moving across the spongy floor towards the rack, as if drawn by some magnetic force.

"Rey, wait – are you sure you're up for this?"

"Definitely…. I think knocking you on your ass would be a great stress reliever."

He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him then, his lips twitching in amusement as he regarded the fierce girl before him. He might have allowed the comment to anger him once, in fact – if anyone else had said it he probably would've blown up in a fit of rage, determined to teach the arrogant fool a lesson. But it came from Rey, and he found himself humored and – eager – to spar with her. Even with her lack of training, he felt more on a level with her than he ever had with the other Knights of Ren.

"Have it your way then… but know that I won't go easy on you." He replied, trying, and failing to suppress the low rumble of his laughter as he moved past her towards the weapon rack, her shoulder briefly brushing his bicep as he did so. Shedding his cloak carelessly on the floor, he inspected the rack for a brief second before turning back to her – a weapon in each hand. In one, a blunted blade, and the other, outstretched towards Rey – a quarterstaff, the metal gleaming and black as if it had never been used before.

"How did you know?" she asked him in a small voice, as she quickly approached, laying her hands on the smooth metal, the rubbered grips. Her eyes rose to meet his, the question reflected in their depths mixed with – nostalgia.

He didn't want to upset her or scare her away and he racked his mind for the right words, settling lamely on, "It suits you," when no better excuse presented itself.

Was it really that simple? He looked at the quarterstaff and decided it suited her – she wasn't sure. It was her weapon of choice, yet he'd only seen her wield a blaster and the Skywalker lightsaber; she hadn't seen her battered and salvaged, yet reliable, staff since she left it on the Millennium Falcon back on Takodana – before she'd met him. How could he know though? Unless – _no it's impossible,_ she told herself, shaking her head slightly, as she gained some distance before turning to face him once more.

"Are you sure you want to use that?" she asked, eyeing his blade, wondering why he'd choose to use it against her staff.

"Rarely do we get to choose our opponents, and rarer still do we get to choose their weapon." He replied, a sardonic smirk painting his features as he oriented himself toward her, the blade drawn back behind his body – poised to strike.

"Thanks for the advice." She returned his sarcasm in full, practically sticking her tongue out at him as she took her own stance – low, both hands lightly gripping the staff, with one end facing him and the other resting just above her shoulder.

Rey moved first – she always did - swiftly approaching him with an unprecedented grace as she took the first swing and he raised his blade to block it – surprised when he had to add his other hand to the grip to stop the force of the blow. The look in her eyes was unwavering and almost feral and he knew then, that she was putting all her strength and skill behind every hit, every step and lunge. She wasn't going easy on him either and it reminded him of how, despite countless other training sessions and gruesome encounters, their battle on Starkiller was the first real physical challenge he'd had in a very long time.

They moved in tandem with each other, a swirling dance of obsidian and sand, for what could've been hours, trading swipes and thrusts but never connecting with each other. Every attack was returned or blocked, the both of them equally skilled with their weapon of choice – neither gaining an advantage over the other. Rey's hair flew loose and wild around her features and while it may have been a hindrance to her, he almost wondered if she let it loose to distract him.

She was, as it would seem, very distracting and while he relished the familiar stretch of muscle and flood of adrenaline from getting lost in the fight – he couldn't help but focus on every little detail that had nothing to do with it. Like the shining spots of gold that had returned to her eyes, lighting them with a determined ferocity that he found – breathtaking, or the brief flashes of white teeth through the slight part in her lips when she exhaled after an attack. But then, the way she moved and handled her weapon – things that did pertain to the match – drew him in too. Even though she'd never held that staff before now, she wielded it as though she had for years, easily maneuvering it's length for sweeping blows and powerful blocks. Her footwork wasn't perfect – it often gave away where she would move or attack from next – but it was quick and sure, and absolutely graceful. The term scavenger didn't equate with grace in his mind, but here and now – watching Rey come at him – it was almost as if she floated across the floor, soundless and lethal.

It continued like that, him studying her everything and neither one gaining an advantage, until they both registered the figure standing in the entryway, chrome armor glaring under the bright lighting, and they both came to a halt – breathless as they let their weapons fall to rest at their sides.

"Yes Captain?" Kylo asked of the intruder, his voice thick with annoyance. "What is it?"

He'd been amiable with her earlier – of everyone in the First Order's ranks, he found Phasma to be one of the most tolerable, she seemed to know how to avoid most, if not all of the triggers that set him off; of which there were many – another truth he didn't like to admit to himself. Even so, having the captain interrupt their training was irksome at best; he'd been enjoying the release as he found his match in combat – able to pour all his energy and rage into his attacks, without worry of hurting her. The constant movement and physical demand allowed his mind temporary freedom from the dark that swirled there continuously; the hate and loathing that was his closest companion. At least she didn't beat around the bush.

"You're needed on the bridge sir." The captain replied briefly, nodding as she turned on her heel and left as quickly as she'd come.

He looked towards Rey then, wondering if he should go, staring at her as if he was asking her permission.

"Go." She said, "I'll continue on my own."

There wasn't any underlying emotion in her voice, as far as he could tell, when she said the words; it was just a matter of fact statement, so, he mirrored Phasma's earlier action and nodded towards her, before turning and leaving the room himself.

"Sir." Mitaka nodded in his direction as Kylo returned to the bridge; he'd delayed his path only slightly – stopping first in his quarters to retrieve the helm he'd previously left behind. Now placed firmly upon his head, Mitaka's eyes met his questioning glare without actually seeing it through the metal guise. He was inclined to show some patience though, the respect shown in the new general's greeting technically unnecessary for his elevated station – yet he used it anyway, and Kylo found it quite, refreshing, not having to deal with Hux and his superiority complex.

"We're approaching the Supremacy sir, at this rate, we'll meet with the Supreme Leader's fleet three days hence."

"Very well." He almost choked out the words but forced his voice into the flat tone that most aboard this ship were familiar with. "Continue our course and inform me of any delays immediately." The words were expected even if they were forced.

He'd all but forgotten where they'd been headed. _Kriff_ , he thought. Rey had consumed so much of his thoughts lately that he let it slip from his mind. How could he have forgotten? Meeting up with the Supremacy meant bringing Rey before his master, it meant that she would be within inches of the being who'd almost caused her death – she was going to hate him for this - if she didn't already.

How could he possibly explain himself or keep her away from Snoke? Short of stealing away with her in his TIE Silencer to some backwater planet, which he wasn't willing to do, there was no way out of this. When he first brought her onboard he hadn't expected Snoke to want, what could be such a powerful ally, dead; the assault, carried out by Hux, had been a complete surprise and he loathed himself for not expecting it. Although, in the entire time that Snoke kept him in stasis, buried within the darkest recesses of his own mind, his master hadn't, as far as he knew – tried to do anything to Rey. For all he was aware, she'd been completely alone during his absence. Maybe that meant his motives weren't so base after-all, maybe her death had never really been his intention. Though he dreaded what that realization might mean, he hoped it was true; he didn't want to lose Rey, but he knew he couldn't defy Snoke again.

Force, she was tired, despite how much she had already slept – while he was gone, all last night, most of today – she couldn't deny the exhaustion that weighed heavily in her bones. She'd put every ounce of energy and strength she had into their sparring match, the evidence clear in the soreness of her muscles. As soon as the door had closed behind Kylo she'd dropped her shoulders and sat down on the soft floor. She hadn't managed to hit him even once, not that she'd actually expected to be able to take him down – even with a quarterstaff. The comment about knocking him on his ass was to get him motivated, to convince him that she was more than ready for a fight – and it worked. But she wasn't stupid; the battle on Starkiller may have gone in her favour – before she dropped her guard of course – but he'd been seriously injured. The bolt from Chewbacca's bowcaster had ripped through his side – she'd seen the injury and the blood that seeped from it before they ever started fighting. She knew that now, if it came down to it, Kylo Ren would best her in battle; even after years of defending herself on Jakku, he had more training, more experience – more strength.

Still though, she was left wondering how he'd never found an opening in her defenses either – they'd been locked in the truest form of a stalemate until the 'captain', as Ren had called her, dressed in chrome stormtrooper armor, had interrupted them. She was glad for the annoyed glare that Kylo had sent towards the intruder then, because it kept his attention off of her – so he didn't notice the quickening of her breath, the clenching of her fists – or how her eyes had shot wide open; she was sure that, if he had looked back at her then, he would've seen the fear embedded in their depths. But he hadn't, he hadn't looked at her until the captain finished her statement and, she'd had just enough time to school her features - to calm her breath - so that when she told him to go, her voice came out sure and steady, as if nothing was wrong.

The fear she'd felt left almost as quickly as the imposing stormtrooper, but she couldn't deny that it had been there – that her mind had flashed with images of the interrogation cell; white boots filling her vision as she lay immobile on the cold stone floor – blinding pain as she stopped being able to tell the blows apart. She'd almost forgotten, with no physical evidence left to attest that it had ever happened, not that she wanted to remember it though – the memory had come unbidden and it had been all she could do to push it back.

Now, tired, and alone in the training room, she shook her head to clear the painful reminders from her brain, the cloak that Kylo had left behind catching her eye as she did so.

The training room was quiet when Kylo returned, brooding behind his mask – consumed with trepidation about reuniting with Snoke. A low hiss emitted from his voice modulator as he sucked in a breath, eyes quickly sweeping the empty room - or at least he thought it was. For once he didn't get the chance to blow up in anger as he realized or, assumed, Rey was missing; his gaze quickly registering her presence, curled up beside the weapon rack, asleep again.

They'd trained vigorously for hours – so much so that he could feel the strain in his own muscles, a heaviness in his limbs. Considering that, he wasn't really surprised that she'd fallen asleep, especially since - he suspected - she hadn't fully recovered her strength. What did surprise him though, was the realization that the dark material shrouding Rey's sleeping body was his own cloak, which he'd previously shed – the weight cumbersome and debilitating in action.

She held the heavy fabric close to her chest, the tanned fingers of one hand just peeking out where they gripped its edges. The cloak, sized for him, was long enough to cover her from head to toe – and then some. It might as well have been a duvet for the way it dwarfed her small, yet powerful frame - he couldn't help the small smile that pulled at the corners of his lips as he watched the slow rise and fall of her chest – that was, at least until he noticed her other hand, which rested innocently on the soft floor beside her head, fingers curled upward to face him. He hadn't noticed them before, but now, the slight burns on the pads of each finger stood out in stark contrast to the rest of her skin. They had begun to heal, but the skin there was still raw and pink, a slight tinge of red outlining each oval shaped burn. He immediately thought of the wounds marring his own skin – the burns that spoke of his failures, his disappointments – and his stomach dropped.

 _It's not possible._ He told himself. _The burns couldn't have been from… -_

 _They must have come from somewhere else_.

He ignored the rational part of his brain, regardless of the fact that the burns were too new to be from before he brought her onto the Finalizer, not to mention the fact that there was nothing in his rooms, save for hot water, that could cause a burn. Even then, if she'd somehow managed to get the water to scalding – it wouldn't have caused the perfect ovals that now marred her skin. Still, he refused to even contemplate the idea; Rey was too good, she had too much light – he'd sensed it time and time again – to ever be consumed, or even tempted by the dark side. If he'd felt, even a waver in her convictions, he would've tried himself to convince her of the power she could have, to convince her to join him – but not once had he sensed a disconnect between Rey and the light side of the force – was he wrong? Did he miss something? Was there a chance that she was actually considering it? No, it couldn't be; he refused to believe that such a thing had happened while he'd been gone – while she'd been alone and vulnerable to attack.

He needed to think of something else – anything else – so it came as a great reprieve when his mind silently reminded him that Rey was still - despite the darkness clouding his thoughts - right there in front of him. He hadn't meant for it to be a test when he left, but the door to the training room had been unlocked and unguarded the entire time he was gone, and, by the looks of things, she hadn't even thought about trying to run. He found himself slightly embarrassed at the pleasure that gave him – to know that, when given an inch – she wouldn't take a mile. He hoped that meant they were building some kind of trust; he may have taken her prisoner, but he'd always wanted her to be, well, a guest and, maybe one day – a permanent resident, by her own choosing. He wasn't sure how Snoke fit into that equation, but he dared to hope that it was a possibility.

Kylo ignored the soreness in his joints, and the slight sting of the fresh burns – hidden by the layers of obsidian colored clothing he wore – as he carefully gathered the sleeping Rey in his arms, making sure to keep his cloak wrapped around her – to keep her warm – as he did so. How many times had he carried her like this? Four, now five times he was pretty sure – it just felt so natural, to have her there. He barely registered her weight, as if he were carrying a feather and he could barely feel where the pressure of her body brushed against his wounds. It had been the same on Starkiller – despite being half dead from blood loss, it had been all too easy to lift her in his arms, and easier still to cradle her unconscious form all the way to his extraction unit.

She didn't show any signs of waking as he lifted her or when he left the training room, but at some point, her hands gripped the fabric covering his chest as she slept. It was as though she was trying to pull him closer, unconsciously tugging on the material as she curled into him, twisting so that her face was pressed against his torso, hidden from sight. He wished then that he wasn't wearing the stupid, obstructing mask – so that he could press his own face against her soft hair, so that he could breathe in the clean, fresh smell that followed her around – just like he'd done that morning.

Rey was vaguely aware of an added warmth against her side, a slight pressure along her shoulder blades and the backs of her knees – something soft and smooth against her cheek. Her body seemed to rock back and forth slightly, the movement whispering images of the slow rolling waves of a calm ocean into her mind. She'd never seen the ocean, but _this_ is what she imagined it would feel like; so peaceful and so… _right._

The scent of pine that engulfed her senses brought forth memories of the first green she could remember seeing - back on Takodana; the endless tree line and high, waving grasses filling her with a wonder and contentment she'd never felt before. It drew her in, and she tried to press closer to it's source, reveling in the underlying scent of leather that she found as she curled closer to the warmth which surrounded her. The combination was soothing, lulling her mind into an even deeper sleep – the soft hint of wood smoke and campfires was the last thing to register before her mind went blank and her breath slowed to a steady whisper.


	12. Chapter 12

It was happening again, the invasive, consuming reminders of a life that didn't belong to her – the dreams that left her shook for days afterwards, and Rey's mind instantly tried to fight back as if acting on survival instincts – trying in vain to push back the images that it knew were coming.

A wave of dark, angry emotion, a tide carrying the past – a past she didn't want to see again threaded through with pain and hurt that wasn't hers. An interloper in the years and events that culminated in the man she knew today; the hot-blooded but surprisingly gentle person she was coming to know – whose presence she'd actually begun to enjoy.

But this, this felt wrong – she didn't want to just know these things about Kylo. Private is what these memories and recollections should be, but for some reason they kept coming – relentless, with no regard for opinion, they surfaced at random throughout the years, although this was the second time in days – something that had never happened before.

Any attempt her subconscious made to shut them out was futile, an effort that always resulted in a slightly delayed but still potent nightmare, and soon his mane of dark hair, that pale, stark and lonely face - filled her vision once more. Young Ben Solo as he was the last time she'd _seen_ him; boyish and awkward with too big ears and a frown that spoke of loneliness beyond his years, downcast eyes still searching for someone – anyone – and thoughts still dominated by the one truth he'd kept with him all his life – that he was completely and utterly alone in the seas of people that came and went but never stayed.

She struggled in her sleep, fighting the secondary pain of watching him go through this again. The visions, memories – whatever they were – had never happened so close to each other, they'd never come in the space of days and her unconscious mind was overwhelmed by the emotional tidal wave. Having barely put the last set out of her mind this was like a double dose of sadness – his return had been the only thing that had washed it away before, relief at seeing him safe and unharmed wiping the slate clean – but now it all came rushing in, stronger than before and her mind screamed in resonance with the emotional young boy in her dreams.

Darkness clouded, and the vision shifted, momentarily obscured but it quickly came into focus, revealing a scene she hadn't expected. It was always the same set, the same stream of memories, but instead of seeing what she knew came next, her own image appeared, the same trio of buns confirming the identity of the young and very much afraid child.

Once again in the grasp of Unkar Plutt, the Crolute's fleshy hands roughly tightened around her skinny arms in a gesture she'd relived through nightmares for most of her life. But this time was different, this time she saw the people leaving her – if only briefly - before they boarded the unremarkable shuttle that would take them away forever. Harsh, worn faces looked back at her with no remorse – no concern for the sobbing child before them. Clothed in ragged pieces faded from wear, they turned from her, never once looking back as they left. She watched her younger self kick and scream as she begged them to come back – as she begged them not to leave her.

 _NO!_

 _Don't go!_

 _Come back!_

The broken, fragile screams of her younger self rattled around her head, tearing at the ragged seams that barely held her emotions intact, beating at the walls that were her only salvation as she waited – and she had waited for so long. She'd never seen this much before, never remembered so much – and it was heartbreaking to relive, even if in her waking mind she couldn't remember these events so clearly.

 _Quiet girl!_

The harsh, guttural words seemed final in that moment, quieting the young Rey, and finalizing the memory – the hot sand and empty horizon that dominated her life quickly fading from view.

Again, the world shifted before her, threatening with the premonition of what was coming – another reminder of Jakku? This time she didn't know what to expect, the rules had changed, and something was different. So, when Ben Solo's slightly older frame appeared before her once more, her restless sleep actually calmed a bit, her unconscious mind finding a slight moment of peace in the familiar, yet alien setting.

It was what she'd expected to see before, the young boy watching the three people he loved most boarding different crafts; Han and Chewbacca leaving in the Millennium Falcon – Leia in some unknown shuttle. None of them looked back as they climbed the durasteel ramps, none of them slowed with the slightest bit of hesitation as they left him alone – again. Mother and father both with somewhere more important to be; there was always something, she knew instinctively, that kept them away, at a distance from their needy and impressionable child.

And impressionable he was, for now he fought against the family that could never give him enough, that could never show him how much they cared – if they cared at all. Suddenly Han Solo's death made a little more sense, it was a little easier for Rey to understand how Kylo had been capable of murdering his own father and, while she knew that he felt remorse and part of him regretted his actions, she found herself reluctant to judge them any longer. His actions might not have warranted his death, but she could see how Han Solo's failure as a father could cause the rift between he and his son that would make Kylo capable of such an act.

There was more to the story, even more than what she was seeing now and what she'd seen before. Something pivotal happened in Ben Solo's life to turn him into Kylo Ren, to drive him to the dark and to Snoke. Seeing these memories confirmed it and made her question if this side was really the wrong one. She hadn't experienced the Resistance first hand, but Finn had convinced her of the horrors of the First Order, but was that really all there was to it? The righteous Resistance, lead by General Leia Organa, had it right, they were good and just, and the order was evil? How could she be sure when it was so clear that the emotional rift in Kylo's mind that drove him to Snoke was caused by these same people?

Everything was quickly becoming muddled, the rumours she'd heard back on Jakku of the First Order's exploits and Finn's haunted stories in direct contrast with the care she'd seen from Kylo. Yes, he'd kidnapped her and tortured her in a sense while attempting to retrieve the map, but he'd also kept her alive, safe and fed. It started out bad but had quickly evolved into something more and while her indignant self may be loathe to trust him after what he'd done, there was a part of her, quickly growing dominant, that wanted to believe in his small acts of kindness. They were more than she'd ever received before – the promise of safety and food that didn't come in vacuum sealed plastic. For the first time she could remember, she didn't have to worry about when she would eat next.

Being ever the survivor, refusing to give up and die rather than live the hard life, she appreciated these things – probably more than Kylo would ever realize or understand. So much so that the reason she'd ended up here didn't matter as much anymore; the important thing, in her mind at least, was that she was alive, comfortable, and living in a place that was nothing short of luxurious compared to how she'd grown up. She'd almost died here yes, but Kylo had saved her, kept her alive and that was monumental. It was the most anyone had ever done for her and it all but eclipsed everything else.

And then there was the Force. This power or ability she supposedly had that apparently could pose a great threat and yet, here he was, trying to teach her how to control it, how to use it. He was trusting her with knowledge of something she'd thought was a myth, something she hadn't even seen until she met him. The First Order had killed many trying to locate Luke Skywalker because of the threat he posed to them and yet Kylo was willingly showing her the same things. Even back on Starkiller he'd tried to convince her that she needed help, a teacher – what would have happened if she'd listened, if she had believed him then as she did now?

There was so much she didn't understand, but wanted to know. She'd lived isolated and alone for years and yet, he'd always been there in fleeting moments while she slept – why? What did it mean? Maybe it meant that Kylo Ren was more than the First Order's judge, jury, and executioner, maybe there was more to the First Order itself beyond the scope of hate and fear that she'd heard preached throughout the years. She'd never been one for grand dreams, besides the return of her family, but she wondered now if maybe there was a reason she'd ended up here.

The visions seemed to be patterned – back and forth, Ben then Rey, the clouds clearing to reveal herself again – this time crouched against the shuddering wall of her makeshift home, scratches which marked the days filling her periphery as she waited out the howling winds and scathing sands. The sounds of metal bending and twisting filled her head as her younger self desperately tried to cover her ears – to block out the terrifying sounds. This was the first desert maelstrom she'd witnessed on her own, but it certainly wouldn't be the last. She remembered now as she watched how sure she'd been that she wouldn't make it till morning, how many times she'd called out for someone, anyone to come and save her. No one ever came and every time the storms blew, threatening to tear the world apart, she hoped a little less. With each passing year, the faith she held in her families return dwindled a little more. She put on a brave face but deep down she knew – she always knew.

The wind died down, and her sad little home disappeared – replaced by much nicer, more civilized surroundings. The dwelling she found herself in was familiar, everything neat and in its place; she'd seen this vision of quiet wealth and comfort enough times to know what was coming next. Turning around in the dream she was met with the haunting stares of Han Solo and Leia Organa as they looked upon their son with a mix of fear and awe. His mother did a better job of hiding her apprehension, but it was clear on Han's face – clear in the expression of the man that she'd once, briefly, thought of as a father figure. Even more obvious, was the pain written so plainly across Ben's face, the pain that he hid so well now – how much he just wanted them to accept him, to love him. It was at odds with his seemingly peaceful surroundings; the clean, well furnished house that even in all its regularity wasn't really a home. She'd seen this look many times before and even though she hadn't known who it belonged to then, she knew, without a doubt, that everything she saw had really happened. That somehow, she'd been experiencing his past in her dreams for the better part of her life.

The pain gnawing at her insides had lessened to a dull ache by now, her mind not truly resisting anymore as she let the waves of their memories carry her through the dream. There she was again, older still – another sandstorm threatening to take her life. But this one was different; it had caught her unaware, stranded with no food and on the last dregs of water in her canteen on the outer edges of the desert graveyard. She'd managed to wedge herself into a blasted hole in some unrecognizable ship – unreconcilable damage and drifting sand masking it's identity – before the wind really picked up and the sand began to swirl through the air like lethal shards of glass. The memory itself was blurred, just like her recollection of that time – she didn't know how long she'd spent in that crevice, cold despite the angry desert just inches away and starving, her stomach an empty pit, as she waited for the storm to pass. She remembered thinking how apt the name was for that barren place, how she too would soon be buried beneath the sands with no one to come looking for her – no one to miss her.

She couldn't recall how many days she'd spent trapped there, all she remembered was the haze of dragging her tired body back out of the jagged opening and across the hot sand. Someone had towered over her then, but she'd been so exhausted, so weak, that she couldn't make out their features. Her vision had blurred, her eyes closed, and she fell unconscious - only to wake up back in her makeshift bed in the downed AT-AT. To this day she still had no idea who'd brought her back, but she knew that if it wasn't for them, her bones would now lie among the shifting sands of Jakku.

It was haunting, having that near-death experience thrust upon her once more, reliving just how desperate she'd been at that point. The hunger she'd known then had been unavoidable and she couldn't help but be disappointed in herself for turning away food while she was anxiously anticipating Kylo's return. She should've tried harder, should've forced herself to eat despite the overwhelming nausea. For what if she ever ended back up on Jakku? Just how foolish and immature would she feel then for turning away hot meals, when she was back to living hand to mouth, scavenging to afford portions that barely passed as edible?

Almost as soon as her mind made that realization, the starkness of Jakku was replaced by yet another vision she'd seen countless times. It no longer surprised her to see his parents leaving him behind or that his features now showed less of the emotion that was buried just beneath the skin – the emotion she was sure was still hidden there today. The apprehensive faces and whispered comments almost seemed to be directed at her as she walked the cavernous halls beside his younger self once more, experiencing again, the total sense of isolation and abandonment he felt despite being surrounded by people – children, youth, adults – that shared his affinities.

Where she'd been lost in a sea of sand for so long, he'd endured a sweltering mass of bodies – yet both had no one. _His parents had at least been there_ was what her mind tried to tell her – tried to convince her that Ben Solo hadn't been alone, he hadn't been abandoned like her. But what was worse – to have your family leave and never return, or to have your family ignore you, fear you and distrust you until it finally got so bad that they gave you away – pawned you off on someone else who might be better equipped to _deal_ with you. Her heart didn't care for the logistics of the situation; the reason why they'd sent him away, if they thought it would somehow help. She only felt hurt; angry that they couldn't see how much he needed them to love him, that they couldn't see the need that she witnessed so plainly in every emotion that crossed the face of young Ben Solo – the emotion that he hid a little more with each passing year until he mastered his look of calm indifference that she was so accustomed to.

She was so consumed with thoughts of him and his life that the next shift in her dream hit her like a slap in the face. Her blood ran cold and her mind immediately resumed its frantic fight – trying to pull back from the memory, trying to wake from the deep, all consuming sleep. It was as though something else was controlling everything though, holding tight to her consciousness, as she plunged into her past to witness one of the more painful, degrading parts of her life.

It was just how she didn't want to remember it being; she was fourteen, by her own count at least – in all actuality the number was an educated guess – not that her age really mattered at that point in time. Her past self was still pinned to the cold, durasteel wall of a downed star destroyer, three men all tall, burly and with their faces covered, surrounding her. She could smell them, even now, like the rancid stink of spoiled meat – their hot, invasive breath pushing in on her mirror image, the fear spread painfully across her features.

She remembered her quarterstaff, how it had rested against her back – the strap slung over her shoulder – so that, in this position, she couldn't reach it. It was trapped up against the wall behind her and she had nothing to defend herself with and no where to move as they closed in.

She could _feel_ their sweaty hands as the first grew bold enough to touch her, as the second began tugging at the scavenged and dirty clothes she wore. Her hands were flailing, trying to push them off, and the halls of the ship, dimly lit by the midday sun filtering in, echoed loud the sound of her screams as she indignantly pleaded with the men. Disgusting is how she felt then and now, violated as they ripped at the clothes covering her chest, their beady eyes trained even lower.

Her eyes closed as she watched, and for a second it looked as though she wasn't going to resist – how could she, it was one girl against three men – all at least half a foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier. If she'd been awake she would've known that her entire body shuddered with the thought, she would know that her skin was covered in a sheen of cold sweat.

Something changed as she looked on though; she didn't remember the slight shift in the wind that seemed so obvious now, in her memory, or how her breathing had slowed to the point where one might think she'd fallen asleep. The deadly calm that pierced the air before her eyes snapped open was something altogether foreign, but she remembered the ferocious anger that had flowed through her then, as she'd shoved back against them all at once – somehow causing each to stagger away from her. She threw her whole weight into it, but at fourteen she was even shorter than she was now and extremely skinny – there'd really been no weight to throw. Yet the men fell back all the same as if they'd been slammed into with a speeder – each loosing their footing, their faces twisted in a sort of confused rage as they glared back at her spindly form.

There'd been no hesitation from then on, as she'd quickly drawn her quarterstaff and laid into her attackers. It hadn't been enough to stop them, or to knock them unconscious – she'd beaten them until their faces were unrecognizable, until fresh blood made tracks down their grime caked and unshaven faces – until they stopped moving and her body was shaking with unshed tears. She'd left them there, unsure, and unconcerned whether they were alive or dead – all she knew was that, when she returned the next day, they were gone. Whether they'd dragged themselves away or the sand had swept their bodies into its depths, she didn't care, as long as they never came back.

There had been more attempts like this, to victimize her, as she got older, but this had been the first and last time that any man had managed to lay a hand on her. It was also the most violent of them all, for Rey restrained herself from then on – resorting only to incapacitate, holding herself back from actually killing anyone. Each time was a struggle, to say the least, the anger she felt at their attempts to use her was consuming and powerful – a hate that she had to work to fight off. Eventually they learned, eventually she'd earned a sort of reputation but there would still be the occasional offhand comment or suggestion and while Rey of Jakku may have kept a calm, indifferent façade – her blood boiled with the need to defend herself, to make them see she wasn't some weak, defenceless young girl.

Rey might've hoped for the briefest of seconds that that memory would be the last, that whatever cosmic force was causing this had enough of torturing her, but it would have been in vain because, at that moment, the world rocked before her and the hot sun of Jakku disappeared into darkness as her midday encounter was suddenly replaced with one taking place in the dead of night. She knew this memory was Ben's, even though she'd never seen it before – something about the way the air curled around her like soft waves spoke of him as she watched from the darkness.

His sleeping form came into view, just as innocent and peaceful looking as it had that day, not too long ago, when he'd rested beside her after exhausting himself healing her fatal wounds. His breath stayed even, his chest rising and falling slowly as some unknown man, clothed in Jedi robes made his way into the small hut. He stood above Ben's sleeping form like a sentry, and while Rey didn't know him, she knew that Ben did – she could feel it. A look she couldn't discern passed over the unknown figures weathered face as his stark blue eyes gazed on the boy before him. A moment passed in silence and then he was reaching into his robes and pulling forth a lightsaber which he ignited above the small bed, its brilliant green lighting the cramped space, the familiar thrum of energy reverberating off the walls. It took a matter of seconds and she couldn't help the gasp that escaped her lips as the man held the blade in dangerous anticipation over Ben's sleeping form, his thumb still hovering at the switch.

In front of her, Ben's eyes opened – dark and immediately full of terror as he recognized not only the power of the weapon above him, but the energy of the force wielder behind him.

 _Uncle._

 _Luke._

 _Skywalker._

The words whispered into her mind, telling her the identity of the man that managed to instill such fear in Ben within the space of seconds. Telling her that this man was the same Luke Skywalker she'd thought was a legend for most of her life, that she had once thought of as a hero made for the storybooks. Now, she looked upon him with a seething hatred, for this – considering taking the life of his own nephew – was despicable. She didn't care what he might have thought or believed that Ben might become, what he might have _seen_ as he peered into the boy's unconscious mind _–_ this was betrayal in its highest form, even worse than being left alone on Jakku.

She watched as he slowly swiveled his head to meet the gaze of his… _teacher,_ his hand reaching for the lightsaber that rested beside the bed – it's silver hilt gleaming in direct contrast to the dull black of his current weapon. There was only a moment of hesitation before self preservation took hold and the boy that would become Kylo Ren ignited the saber in defense. Blue light crashed into green, his empty hand, raised before him, pulled at nothing and the building collapsed around them in a shower of wood and stone. Flame licked at the edges of her vision as the memory blurred, a black oblivion steadily replacing the dream as she struggled to calm her racing heart.

In that moment, Luke Skywalker hand managed to single-handedly disconnect Ben Solo from every member of his family – for after this he'd never be able to go back. After this, there would never be a place for him anywhere but with Snoke; the only place he could go was straight into the darkness that had been calling him for so long, the darkness that promised new beginnings, power – acceptance.

Her mind was still swimming with deadly flashes of green, crumbling walls, and the thick scent of smoke - as if from the burning of an entire structure and it's contents - when the sound of sliding steel brought her back to a semi conscious state. Her breath was still rapid as she floated in that in-between place, partially aware of the real world but still sedated by sleep.

A warm, gentle hand came down on her shoulder and her eyes opened lazily, darkness obscuring her vision even after the post sleep blur had cleared. Sight wasn't necessary though, to know that it was Kylo standing beside her bed, that it was his hand that seemed to flood warmth into her ice-cold body, even through the covers. He was breathing heavy and she could feel his heartbeat racing – just as fast as hers – in the otherwise dead silence that filled the room.

She gazed up at the slight outline of his face, into the warm, dark eyes that she knew were locked on her own.

"Did you -?" she began to ask of him, her voice shaken and unsteady to her own ears.

"Yes."

That one word, interrupting her question, sounded so broken and weak - as though it encompassed every terrible memory she had witnessed - that she knew immediately, and without doubt, that Kylo had seen it all too. He'd been there in every memory, witnessing her past and re-experiencing the pain of his own. She didn't know why – why they had to so fully experience each other's raw hurt like that – why she'd been seeing him in her dreams for years. But what she did know, was that she felt ragged – in both body and mind, as though every wound she'd ever received – be it mental or physical – had been reopened and cut just a little deeper. It felt like someone had just dragged a knife across a dozen newly healed scars – denying them the ability to stay closed, forcing them open for all to see – for him to see.

Kylo had seen some of her most painful memories, but she'd seen his too, and now he was standing before her, not visible enough for her to read the emotions on his face – if there were any. _Does he feel like this too?_ Did he feel raw and haggard, exposed to the elements, just as she did? Was he frozen inside, with the stark realization that his past had been so clearly displayed for someone else to see? Did he feel as though he were being battered and beaten from the inside out, by every sad, miserable piece of his past? Because she did; having all that thrown at her at once, all those memories swarming her dreams together like a tidal wave – she felt broken, alone, and afraid.

Not wholly awake and less than sure if she was moving of her own volition, Rey found herself sliding away from the edge of the bed, gently flipping the covers back as she did so in a silent invitation, or was it a request?

He didn't move until she reached her hand out towards him, fingers gently probing the darkness in front of his rigid stature. Long fingers clasped her considerably smaller ones almost immediately, dwarfing them as he slid into the bed beside her with an ease and grace that contrasted his height. No words were needed as Kylo settled himself next to her, replacing the covers as he turned towards her.

She could finally see his eyes; their warm, dark depths swimming with emotion as they searched her own for the same. His features before her were raw and pale, his bottom lip quivering so slightly she might've missed it had she not been studying his expression so intently – it spoke of an innocence in him that she'd only witnessed before when he was asleep. Whatever had just happened between them to connect their minds, to share their dreams – it had affected him just as much as her, and he needed this closeness just as much as she did. They both needed to feel… not so alone for once – to deny the reality that every memory had served to enforce, to deny the truth that they had no one – because maybe, maybe that wasn't true anymore.

Her gaze was boring into him with an intensity of emotion that Kylo had never witnessed before, the few inches separating them only making it that much more powerful. She was shaking slightly beneath the covers, and the small hand he still clasped within his own was cold as ice. He was at a loss, for what to do, what to say – everything she'd seen about his past, _what would she think?_ But then, she'd pulled back the covers for him, taken his hand – as if she didn't want to be alone, and he knew that was the truth because he felt the exact same. He'd gone straight to her, after he'd broken through the haze of their shared dream, not because he felt obligated or responsible, but because all he could think about was that he needed to be near her – needed to be with her.

It hadn't been like before, when the raw emotion of her nightmare, the fear and loneliness she'd felt had been carried to him through the force. He hadn't been woken up by her struggles, he hadn't seen her dreams as he loomed over her sleeping form. No, this time he'd been right there with her, locked in his mind or hers – he wasn't sure – he only knew that it was completely involuntary. This time their minds had shared every experience, witnessing each painful facet of their past together – there would be no hiding his past from Rey now.

There was nothing really to say at that moment, at least, nothing that could explain what just happened without scaring her further and nothing that would ease the hurt of reopening all those scars they both seemed to carry.

Even in the absence of light he could see the slight glisten of tears on her lower eyelashes and he found himself biting back his own, as he gently brushed the pad of his free thumb across the top of her cheekbone as if he could caress her sadness away. She shuddered under his touch, eyes closing as she pressed her face closer, so that his palm rested against her cheek, and his fingertips ghosted into the tendrils of chestnut hair framing her face. He couldn't help the deep exhale of breath at the softness under his touch – everything about Rey was beautiful, he'd come to realize, but her hair – every time he saw her he found himself longing to run his fingers through its length – to get lost in it's silky depths. She was really here right in front of him and she accepted his touch, even welcomed it and it spoke volumes. Despite the uncertainties passing through his mind, her acceptance made him feel wanted and whole as he savoured the feel of her smooth skin against his palm

"Stay with me." Her voice came small, unsure, and pleading before him.

Kylo had never heard that tone in her voice before, so unguarded and open – not even when she'd broken into tears as she explained how bad it had got while he'd been gone. This was a side to her, a vulnerability, that she hadn't let him see before – a facet, he suspected, that no one had witnessed, until now – until him. Trust is what she was giving him – clear, unbridled faith as she let him see the parts of her that she kept hidden from the world; the need that was reflected so perfectly in himself. It made him feel – light; both as though a weight had been lifted off his chest and like the world itself was just a little brighter, a little less bleak than it had been before he met her. Rey was light, he realized – just having her near calmed him, strengthened him, balanced him – he needed her.

He chose actions over words as a reply, or rather, his body made the decision for him – pulling her small frame against his own so he could feel her heartbeat against his skin, the curve of her stomach where it now rested against his side. He closed his arms around her slight, yet muscular body and she didn't resist as he thought she might – instead placing her head in the crook of his arm so that her cheek rested gently on his chest, her hair tickling his skin as it fanned out around her. She hesitated only a moment before laying an arm across his chest, so she could hold him too. It was everything, more than he'd ever expected to receive from her and all that he needed in that moment.

Tonight, he would take only what she was willing to give him, and her closeness satisfied a need he hadn't allowed himself to acknowledge in years. It was enough to know that she was willingly by his side, that this peaceful embrace which soothed his aching soul was received in welcome. He marvelled at the fact that this girl so full of light could cling so tightly to himself and his darkness. With her he felt a little less conflicted – a little more whole, so this; just being with her, was more than enough to satisfy the ache he'd felt since he'd found her on Takodana.

He could feel the slight wet of her tears against his chest as her breathing began to slow again, her heart steadying against his side. He allowed his fingers to run through her hair, finally exploring it's length, and she sighed contentedly under his ministrations. It wasn't long before her breath slowed once more, and she quickly fell back to sleep - having never left that state in-between dream and waking.

Nothing was going the way he'd originally planned – he'd always refused to believe that the visions, the dreams were anything more than just that – a figment of his imagination – despite the constant, underlying sense that they were so much more. It had been years since he'd had those dreams, in fact, he'd almost forgotten – until that conversation with Mitaka, until he'd mentioned a girl from Jakku. It had all come swarming back then, every lonely image of the girl he'd seen, every painful memory he'd witnessed instead of sleeping. It had filled him with, not rage exactly, but a ferocity to know more – he had to.

At that moment the only similarity between Rey and the girl in his dreams had been that they both came from a desert planet – it could have been anyone, but he knew, from the second he saw her on Takodana – that she was the same girl that had been haunting his rest for years. Even though he'd taken her with him then because she held the map to Luke Skywalker within her mind, it had always been so much more than that. He hadn't known then what he would do when she woke and right now, he still wasn't sure what he was going to do in the morning – but he hoped that she would remember asking him to stay; he really didn't want to wake up to an angry Rey – ready to kill him, or at least seriously injure him – for being in her bed. He might be a masked, ruthless, lightsaber wielding warrior to everyone else, but with Rey he wanted to be different; he found himself humbled in her presence, capable of patience and even a sort of kindness that had once been so foreign to him.

Morning on the Finalizer was hours away though and despite his slight trepidation, sleep called to him like an old friend. Rey still clung to his side as though she trusted him more than anyone or anything else, and he revelled in the sensation of being so close to her.

A single tear managed to escape from the corner of his eye as he pressed his lips to the top of her head. Inhaling deeply of her clean, light smell, he found his own mind drifting off again, hopefully to some blank world that would allow him some time to just forget, to ignore everything around him – everything and everyone, save for the girl curled up at his side.


	13. Chapter 13

Soft light filled the room as the recessed lamps lining the metal walls brightened to a dim glow, signalling the arrival of morning on the Finalizer. The artificial warmth falling across Rey's features stroked the edges of her mind, bringing her out of a deep, peaceful sleep. Eyes still closed, not wanting to be awake, her body registered the excess heat along her side, beneath her palm – against her cheek. Not enough to be uncomfortable, in fact, the sensation was so calming she nearly fell back asleep – huddling even closer and holding on a little tighter as she did so.

An almost inaudible intake of breath below her jerked her senses back from the edge. As quiet as it was, strain was evident in the way the muscles underneath her touch had tensed, and the slow rise and fall that had lulled her to sleep suddenly halted.

 _Muscles?_

 _Breathing?_

 _._

 _._

 _Kylo._

Her own breath stopped momentarily as she remembered the night before, eyes clenched shut even tighter– unwilling to confirm that she was indeed curled up with Kylo Ren. The muscled chest underneath her grasp, the firm arm encircling her, the soft skin against her cheek – they were definitely all his. She'd already been so close to him, and yet she'd pressed even closer to his warmth, revelling in it's comfort – it's safety. Rey didn't need a mirror to know that her cheeks were burning, and she hoped that he couldn't see them from where he lay, awake.

 _Kriff,_ she almost cursed aloud.

He was – awake - or at least she was pretty sure. The breath he took was sudden and sharp as though something had caused him pain – but he'd been quick to stifle it, probably so he wouldn't disturb her. But she'd already been awake, instinctively tightening her hold on his body and the comforting warmth it provided.

That's about when it clicked in her mind, and the raised, uneven patches she could feel against her fingertips and her forearm started to make sense. It had been too dark last night, and their feel hadn't registered under her semi conscious touch but now the texture of his skin was painfully obvious. Careful not to move, she studied their feel as best she could – softer than the skin against her cheek, yet puckered and hotter than the rest of his body, as if they still burned.

 _Burns,_ the patterned lines marking his chest _felt_ _like burns_ – deep and severe – that hadn't fully healed. The vision he'd shown her, when Snoke cast those snakelike creatures at him, flashed though her mind once more. He'd never said what they did or what they were, and she'd never seen him out of his full black regalia before, but even with the mask covering his features, the way his body had writhed under their hold spoke of pain – raw physical pain.

Seven days of the same, seven days of that burning agony because of her and now, now she was resting on all of those fresh wounds.

 _Oh Force._

That was all she could think as she hesitantly opened her eyes despite wanting to disappear into the sheets. Slowly, carefully, she removed her arm, gingerly sliding away so she could sit up beside him – hoping that the movement wouldn't cause any more pain.

She'd been right; when she turned around to look at him, pulling her knees underneath herself as she did so, his eyes were already open – watching her with an almost wary curiosity, as if he thought she might strike out at him. His chest was battered and bare and he lay open and vulnerable beside her, hesitation and doubt written cleanly across his features. He'd probably not thought about the consequences of going to her, after the night terror, that in his genuine act he would be exposing what had really happened with Snoke. She hadn't asked before, it didn't seem her place but now the evidence was raw and stark before her.

While she was no doubt embarrassed at having woken up beside him, clinging on as though she were a small child, that emotion was eclipsed by the horror she felt as her wandering eyes took in the lines marring his skin. They were everywhere – crisscrossing his sculpted torso, disappearing around his waist, running over the taught muscles of his abdomen – they even trailed down his arms, drawing sadistic circles around them. One on each bicep stood out in particular, the skin there raised higher as if it had burned and healed repeatedly. Raw and red, the burnt flesh looked as though it had barely begun to heal over, and she seemed to feel the stinging pain they were causing him like a phantom itch against her own skin.

She sucked in a breath as she continued to absorb the sight she was seeing, the reality of his life. Why would he choose to follow a monster who could do this to him? She didn't understand, she'd probably never be able to understand even if he was willing to explain it. These wounds weren't superficial – they cut deep, and while they'd started to heal they were still raw, exposed and completely untreated – like a mark he was forced to wear. Why didn't he heal himself as he had done for her? Or at least he could've gone to the med-bay that this star destroyer was sure to have. No warship made would be without some form of medical facility, yet here he was before her, slightly feverish and skin patterned with deep lines of burnt flesh.

He hadn't moved an inch, as she let herself inspect every inch of his exposed chest – she hadn't noticed that he wasn't wearing a shirt the night before and now she could barely bring herself to appreciate how… masculine his form was, smooth lines of trained muscle starkly visibly even under his deeply marred skin. No, the injuries were all she could focus on, they took complete precedence in her mind as she fought for the right words to say, the right thing to do. He'd held her as she slept despite the pain she knew now it had caused him, why would he do such a thing for her? What had she done to deserve his compassion?

Part of her may be loath to admit that _that_ was what it was, that there was some care and concern between them, but she knew that it was true. She wouldn't hide the fact that this sight sickened her, rocked her to her core. Yes, she cared, and the galaxy be damned if she was going to feel bad about it. Yes, she should probably hate this man for what he'd done to her, but first impressions weren't everything and he'd done a pretty good job making up for his actions – at least in her mind. Jakku had been hell and here was this person who started as an enemy but quickly became the only thing keeping her alive, the only one that cared about her wellbeing and that counted for something. They may have started out swinging but now she felt they had found some sort of mutual understanding in each other – especially after what they had both experienced last night. For all that had happened she couldn't help but feel concern for him too, and right then, despite her loss for words, she wasn't hesitant to show it. He needed to know that there was someone on his side, even if she wasn't sure how far on his side she was.

She finally raised her eyes to meet his, and found his expression, not cold exactly, but completely indifferent – as if it was the first time they met again, and he wasn't lying before her, covered in angry burns. A mask she knew, this was his version of protection – the metal façade she hated so much was nowhere in sight, so he had to make due with schooling his features – a practice that apparently, he was extremely good at.

 _Or not…_

For after just a few seconds of actually holding his gaze, the solid expression he'd mustered in her silence began to falter, quickly crumbling as he struggled not to show his apprehension. Those deep, dark eyes had been cold for a brief moment but now they swam with endless streams of thought and emotions that she couldn't place, an open vulnerability that he'd never learned to hide. So, the mask did more than intimidate she thought; it hid his emotions - his fears and uncertainties - from the galaxy.

She didn't know how long they'd held each others' eyes for, neither speaking as the dead silence stretched long and uncomfortably between them, until he suddenly broke from her, gaze dropping slightly as he turned his face away as if he was expecting a reprimand. It seemed so _young,_ the way he cowered from her in embarrassment? Fear? Her heart wrenched at the notion that this powerful figure was brought so low; she wouldn't judge him, or think less of him because he was injured and terribly so. No, she hurt for him in a way that she never had for anyone else, it was foreign and raw, her own emotion evident in the broken words that she managed to choke out.

"Oh, Kylo."

He swiveled back around to look at her again, his mouth set once again in a hard line, dark eyes flashing dangerously.

"Stop. I don't want, or need, your pity."

Pity? Was she pitying him? Rey didn't think so, she'd reacted to his wounds, but she hadn't felt sorry for him, not exactly at least. He chose this life, no matter the circumstances that drove him here, she knew that – she couldn't fix that, and she didn't feel sorry for him per se. But that didn't mean she was okay with the burns covering his skin, the hurt marring his eyes. She felt something, but that didn't mean she was pitying him, did it?

Here was a prideful man, resolute in his position, not wanting to show weakness or admit his pain and, to Rey, that was understandable. She was used to hiding, to masking who she really was, what she really wanted and felt, in order to survive. His reaction wasn't really surprising, but she wasn't about to give up that easily, not now, not after those nightmares, not when he was right there in front of her. Something had happened between them and she knew too much about him now to just ignore his pain, to pretend like she hadn't seen or felt the puckered lines tracing his skin. No, he'd be talking about this one way or another, of that she was sure, so she pushed forward.

"Why would you stay? Why would you follow Snoke if this is what it gets you and don't pretend, because I know that this was his doing Kylo."

"You wouldn't understand Rey." Now he was avoiding her eyes.

"Try me. Kylo, I want to know. What is so worth this?" she waved her hand indignantly towards his torso, her speech growing louder as she fought to reign in her emotions.

A sigh escaped his lips as he met her piercing gaze once more, contemplating how much he could, or was willing to say. It was obvious that he was uncomfortable and reserved about telling her anything, but she kept on with her questioning gaze. Maybe she wouldn't understand, but she wanted to.

"You saw what it was like before, I know you did. You saw how – I – they –…. This," he gestured around himself, "is something more. I belong here."

Oh.

And if his memories hadn't been enough to convince her, that statement surely would. He really had grown up feeling just as she had; just as scared and alone, wanting, needing anyone that could care, even just a little. As wrong as it seemed, Snoke had given him a place, a position, and the attention he'd always needed but never received. Yes, she'd seen the cruel torture, there was no denying that or the sick feeling it left in her gut – but was there more, more that she didn't know of Snoke and possibly even the First Order? And then, she could kind of understand that even this painful existence was enough, because it meant finally someone was watching, paying attention. He had his master that was actually concerned about his actions, and while it was sickening to imagine that torture had become a substitute for his absentee family, it had her wondering what else had come from his flipping sides.

The look in her eyes must have betrayed her morbid curiosity because he spoke up again,

"That's all I'm going to say about it." And the determined, slightly harsh glint to his features confirmed those words to be true. She didn't want to press him, not too much at least, so she'd take what he'd given her and drop the subject – for now at least, besides, there was another question on her mind.

"I won't…Kylo?"

"What?"

"Why didn't you heal yourself?"

And apparently that was the wrong question to ask if his sudden intake of breath and pained expression were any indication.

 _Fuck._

There it was, she'd finally asked the question that he really didn't want to answer. Yes, healing might be a skill practiced by light siders and yes, he embraced the dark side of the force – but that didn't change the fact that he'd never managed it in the first place, not even when he was still training to be a Jedi. It was a sore spot for him, countless times he'd tried and failed, only to be met with the gloating, derisive stares of his fellow students. Fitting in had been hard enough, his lack of ability only amplified the distress of those early years.

Now she was asking for an explanation, because of course she knew that he had healed her injuries, he'd told her as much. The problem was that he still didn't know how he'd done it; there wasn't really any method behind it – he'd been so focused on the need to save her that it just happened, but nothing just happens. No, he knew there was something else, that her force signature had somehow entwined with his own, guiding, teaching – as if _she_ already knew how and he was just providing energy for the act. It wasn't just his ability that healed her, it was both of them – together, even though she was completely unconscious, how was he supposed to explain that?

Maybe he should have just ignored his pride and gone to the med-bay, then at least they wouldn't be having this, well, extremely awkward conversation. But no, Kylo Ren was unwilling to present himself to the medical team because then he'd have to explain where the injuries came from and that was information he wasn't willing to let slip. He wouldn't let the rest of the Order see him as some sick puppy that Snoke liked to kick around. His training was something they'd view as a weakness, a thing to exploit – it would give them a reason to look down on him like no one, save his master, had in years. Perhaps he should start keeping a med-kit, some spare bacta patches, in his quarters – that at least would've reduced the severity of the picture Rey was intently staring at.

This bout hadn't been the most painful, no lightning gets that reward, but it had done the most external damage. Never before had Snoke marked his skin so thoroughly; yes, his old scars had been reopened once more, but the marks also littered the rest of his flesh. His master wanted to make sure he understood just how he had failed him. Kylo suspected that Snoke never really liked Hux, well he wasn't sure Snoke actually liked anyone, but that was besides the point. He'd killed the face of the First Order, gone against his masters wishes for a prisoner, so he had to be punished and that was that.

And Rey was still waiting.

He dragged his hand over his face and back through the loose waves of his hair as he tried to formulate an answer for the girl sitting anxiously before him. It was obvious that she was trying to hold his gaze, but her hazel eyes kept flitting back to his injuries, inspecting the damage as she worried at her lower lip. She looked so young and innocent in that moment, not trying to hide the fear that painted her features.

Fear? Of him? For him? Could she really care enough, after what he'd done, to feel fear for him? He knew he didn't deserve it, but the prospect was elevating in a way he'd never anticipated. Not that it helped him with the admission he felt obligated to make.

"I can't."

 _Oh, good job Kylo, because she's definitely going to let it go with that half-assed excuse._ But that's all that he could think to say, really. Even if he wanted to tell the truth he still had no idea how to explain it.

"I'm going to need a little bit more than that." She said, fixing him with a stare and a slightly exasperated sigh.

"I can't heal myself."

"What? Why? You healed me, didn't you?" she paused for a moment, obviously thinking before adding, "does it only work on others? Can you only heal other people?"

And if that wasn't the perfect excuse to save him from the conversation then he didn't know what was. He probably should've jumped on it, used it, and then promptly changed the topic but he didn't. There was something nagging him not to, as if something was telling him that now was the time to tell her the truth about what had happened when he'd healed her. Maybe it was some great plan laid out in the force, and maybe it was just that they were sitting there almost casually, still wrapped up in bedsheets and quite vulnerable to one another. He couldn't be sure of the reason that drove him just then.

"I didn't know what I was doing when I healed you… I'm not even sure if _I_ did heal you." She didn't say anything then, probably waiting for him to elaborate and he was grateful for her patience. The admission was hard to make, but it almost felt as though a weight had been lifted. "I know that when it happened, I wanted nothing more than to save you, that I couldn't let you die."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why?"

"Why couldn't you let me die?" and her voice came out as a strangled whisper that struck him to the core.

Was that even a question? Wasn't it obvious? He didn't just let prisoners lounge around in his private quarters, he didn't train them or bring them meals. Could she honestly not see that he cared about her enough to want her alive? This scavenger girl was rough around the edges, but so, so vulnerable and the honesty in her question was devastating. She'd been more alone in her life than he'd ever been, and it showed, obvious in the way she couldn't believe that he wanted her – in any capacity. But how did he tell her that, this girl he'd taken by force, against her will?

"It may not seem like it, but I never wanted you to get hurt. Rey, I never really wanted you as a prisoner, when I called you a guest back on Starkiller I meant it…. I know I took you against your will, and the chairs" – how did he explain locking her in those restraints not once, but twice "I'm sorry about the restraints… but would you have come with me otherwise?"

"I…I don't know…maybe?" she thought for a moment, "probably not…it's not exactly in my nature to trust you know."

"Look Rey, there's something about you – It started back in the woods on Takodana and now, after…after last night, I can't deny it…you're important to me Rey."

Her eyes were wide with some measure of disbelief, her lower lip quivering slightly as she confirmed,

"I'm important to you?"

"Very much so."

"Oh."

 _Did she get it?_ Was that enough to make her understand? He wasn't exactly versed in this sort of thing, sharing his feelings and what-not. But he needed her to get it, to see that there was more to this all than simply keeping another Force Sensitive captive. Maybe it started that way, but just being near her quickly morphed it into so much more. Even to himself he couldn't really explain it, but there was no doubt in his mind that what he told her was true. Yes, Rey was important to him, he cared about her and he didn't want to see her hurt, in fact, the urge to protect her was steadily consuming him.

Her eyes were downcast as she chewed on her lip, an anxious, unsteady fidget in her fingers where they grasped the sheets; she seemed to be considering his words, weighing them for the truth in her mind. Her expression then told him that she was apprehensive at best to believe him, but the look didn't last long; with a quick shake of her head, as if to clear her mind, that determined look returned to light her hazel eyes as she looked up at him once more.

"So, what did you mean, when you said you weren't sure if you actually healed me? How is that even possible?"

"Uhh…well, it's sort of hard to explain… It was almost like your presence in the Force, your signature, was directing me, showing me where to go and what to do."

"They combined. Our…manifestations? They, we I guess, were working together." There was a note of awe in her tone as she said the words that made his eyes open wide in wonder.

"How did you-?"

"I saw it." And now she sounded confused and breathy at the same time, as though she were both scared and excited.

"What do you mean, you saw it?"

"Just now, when you were trying to describe what happened I could see… I saw myself, I saw the energies come together… just like they did that day in the training room…that wasn't normal, was it?"

No, it most certainly was not and now she'd caught on and he still didn't know what it meant, not really. But even more concerning was that she saw his memory, she hadn't tried to enter his thoughts and yet, she saw what he'd been remembering all the same – and he hadn't felt a thing. Why?

"No, it wasn't…same goes for the memory you just witnessed, I don't know how you managed to see that in my mind."  
"I… what does this mean Kylo?"  
"I honestly don't know." And he didn't, it seemed there was a lot he didn't know or understand. Maybe Snoke would have some answers, he wasn't prepared to lose Rey to him, but perhaps this, whatever it was, would give his master enough incentive not to kill her. For this sudden, easy bridge between their minds and the involuntary response of his dark and her light to meld, to work together as though it were second nature must mean something, surely it must have some importance?

Her small hands splaying out on his chest brought his mind back from it's ocean of thought, she was slightly skimming the skin, tracing the burns she found there. The cool, whispering touch of her fingertips was soothing, mesmerizing in a way that made him want to get lost in the patterns she was so carefully drawing. He had no idea what she was doing, or why she was willingly so close to him, but he didn't care. There was a sort of numbness creeping over his mind and at that moment, he'd probably let her do whatever she wanted. The peaceful, floating sensation was so strong she could probably raise his own blade against him and he wouldn't lift a finger.

He thought she might be saying something, her soft pink lips moving as if forming words, but he didn't really hear them; a delicious fog of comfort and serenity enveloped his senses, as though he were in a dream.

"…saw…"

"…felt how…"

"…what to do…"

Yes, she was definitely trying to tell him something, but he only caught snippets of it, partly because she whispered the words but mostly because he was lost in the pools of gold swimming throughout the depths of her hazel eyes. She was concentrated, intent on whatever she was doing, and he was floating, seeing everything and nothing all at once, as though he were separate from his body and present at the same time. The feeling was surreal but good…so good. He'd never felt this good, everywhere her fingers graced seemed to alight in pleasant sensation, like a cool breeze on a hot summers day. Every time she reached a new piece of skin the stinging pain left by the burns receded a little more, dwarfed by her energy, her light.

 _Her light._

She was drawing her hands away now, but he caught them within his own, the absence of her touch slowly clearing his mind until he could register the girl before him, and the look of silent wonder that painted her face. As his mind returned to him, he noticed first the trails of silvery scars that crossed his skin now instead of burns, and second, that his large hands were clasped around Rey's considerably smaller ones, the callouses lining her thin fingers tickling his skin where they met.

The look of innocent fascination quickly faded to a nervous apprehension with his continued silence and powerful stare. He had no idea what his own expression looked like right now, which emotion it would show. Disbelief, wonder, confusion, awe or…

She'd healed him. He hadn't even realized what she was doing but now it made perfect sense, that peaceful sensation that washed over him. This girl, with virtually no training and no reason to care –

"Rey."

And his voice came out a lot huskier than he'd expected, even just speaking her name. There was so much, so much about this girl before him that drew him in already, and this, this was like icing on the cake. What she'd done was nothing short of incredible and she'd done it for him. It was more than anyone else had ever given him before and he was ,well… hooked.

His dark eyes were boring into hers with an intense heat, she hadn't seen this look on his face before and she didn't know what to make of it. Was he angry? Pissed? He shouldn't be, considering she'd just healed his wounds – even if she herself couldn't really believe that she'd managed it. She'd felt what it had felt like for him, when he was healing her – how her own light had guided his dark, pulling, and pushing – mending the tissue. It had been somewhat disturbing, but mostly captivating – seeing and feeling her body stitch itself back together through his eyes and under his touch.

She hadn't anticipated this, but after seeing his memory of her, she couldn't stop herself from trying the same for him. It was as though something else had been directing her and she just knew what to do, the pull had been so great that she didn't even hesitate in laying her hands on him. But now she realized that she had indeed been, well, feeling up his chest – literally all of it – while she worked, so maybe he _was_ mad. Maybe she'd overstepped, and she didn't know what to say to that or this burning expression she hadn't noticed before. Her nervous apprehension rose with each second that ticked by and she was almost ready to crack when he finally broke the silence with her name.

His tone was low, throaty – as though he didn't trust his own voice to convey the sheer level of emotion in that one word, her name. It rose goosebumps on her skin, and she might have visibly shuddered at the sound. His eyes were still burning, and those pouty lips were parted slightly as his grip shifted suddenly, but with a surprising gentleness, to her wrists. She opened her mouth to speak but found herself quickly falling towards his very exposed chest, or rather, he was pulling her towards him. It was urgent and maybe a little forceful, and she didn't she didn't get any time to react as he sat up to stop her body with his own, effectively pinning her captured hands against his chest as he did so. He was suddenly so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath and a startled gasp started to escape her lips, only to be silenced by his mouth slanting down over her own.

 _Oh Force_.

Was he...? yes, yes, he was definitely kissing her. His lips caressed her own with a passionate need and oh, she had never felt anything like this before, never. Some men had tried back on Jakku; managing a sloppy, invasive pass before but she promptly beat them back with her staff, but this, Kylo – the feel of his soft lips, hot and insistent against her own, was, in a word - glorious.

He had her hands trapped between them and she could feel the intensity of his heart racing, the flush that crept over the bare skin of his chest. She could feel his want as though it were feeding directly into her mind and it was riveting, that he needed her so in that moment.

He was freeing her hands now to move his own, one around her waist, the other curling at the base of her head to tangle in the hair that flowed freely down her back. The base of his hand rested warm and gentle against her cheek as his long fingers got lost in its length, teasing back and forth against her scalp.

Then he was pulling her into him more fully, lifting her into his lap with one arm as though she were as light as a feather, and well, maybe that was accurate because of how thin Jakku living had made her – but the ease with which he shifted her made her feel – safe. That was probably the best word for it, how being in his very muscled, yet gentle embrace offered a sense of much welcomed protection. Yes, here she was in the arms of one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy, yet she felt safer in that moment than she ever had before.

And she was getting lost in the feel of his heat against her, this man she should hate or fear but right now felt nothing but attraction to. His hand at the small of her back kept her pressed against him as he continued the fiery onslaught with his mouth. His tongue stroked across her lips, the sensation sending sparks throughout her body and she gasped against his mouth, parting her lips for him, eager for more. He dove forward, thoroughly exploring every inch of her mouth as she discovered why this was so popular.

She'd seen couples locked in passionate embrace before, but this was her first time experiencing the feel of someone else's tongue against her teeth, the heat of another's mouth against her own. And oh, was he ever good at this, his lips knew all the right angles as they moved against hers, eliciting all new sensations that travelled down to the base of her spine.

His teeth grazed over her bottom lip in a ghost of bite and force help her because that moan came from her didn't it? Escaping of it's own accord, created by the painful pleasure of his mouth.

All of these feelings, sensations – they were new to Rey and she was inexperienced and unsure of what she was doing. That nagging part of her mind told her she was making a fool of herself, that she was utterly messing this up and he was going to start laughing at her any moment now. But with each second that passed, each stroke of soft lips and gentle scrape of fingertips the worry eased a little more, and she cared a little less. The more insistent part of her mind, or heart – she didn't know – was winning now, the sensation of him, underneath her fingers, against her body – was overwhelming.

She slid her own hands up the now smooth skin of his abdomen, following the hidden lines of muscle up and around his neck until her fingers curled into the soft waves of his hair. He groaned, low and uninhibited, as she ran them through its length, grazing his scalp with her nails as she did so. That sound was so…masculine, it sent shivers down her spine – gods was she ever attracted to this man, to… Kylo Ren. There was no denying it now, not with her tongue tracing his teeth, while his hands fervently searched her body.

They were she realized, through the fog that clouded her mind, running up and down her sides, her back, across her thighs – touching, caressing her through yesterdays thin clothes. He was everywhere against her and she was straddling him and that definitely explained the hardness pressed against her inner thigh and she quivered in a mix of fear and excitement under his touch; a nervous flutter settling low in her abdomen.

His lips left hers to leave a trail of fleeting kisses along her jaw, before travelling down her neck to suck on her pulse. His tongue flicked across the sensitive skin there and she let out another, much louder moan as she tightened her grasp on his hair.

Yes, she was enjoying this…Kylo was nothing short of amazing and she revelled in this sensation of being so close… but was she ready for this?

.

.

Apparently not, because when his hands found the hem of her tunic, pushing it up to find the bare skin underneath - she froze. Stock still, she stopped moving because she didn't really know what to say, or do in that moment but she knew intrinsically that she wasn't ready for more, or at least she wasn't ready for what he would inevitably want if she let it go any further.

And if he was a creature of impulse and uninhibited actions like people said, then he was turning over a new leaf, because his hands stopped moving almost immediately and his lips left hers, so he could catch her eyes.

"Rey?"

"I…"- and she still didn't know what to say, especially with that open, honest expression searching her eyes, silently questioning if she was okay. And damn the prick of tears behind her eyes that his concern elicited because she really didn't want to end her first real kiss, well that was a little more than a kiss but regardless – she really didn't want it to end with her in tears before him.

So, she swallowed them back the best she could and met his gaze, her mouth opened to try and explain but nothing came out. She was embarrassed and more than a little lost because yes, she definitely felt something for this man, and yes being locked in his embrace had felt so damn good, but she wasn't ready to go further than that yet and how was she supposed to tell him it was because she never had gone further? Heck, she'd never had more than an unwanted, forceful press of lips – an action that was always countered with a ruthless lesson courtesy of her quarterstaff. How was she supposed to explain that the fear in her eyes wasn't of him, but of being with him – or anyone for that matter.

And what if he was angry? Annoyed that she wouldn't give him more, at least not willingly, or pissed that she'd reciprocated and then abruptly gone cold.

It was almost like he heard everything she was thinking though, that he heard the apprehension coursing through her mind, because his hands immediately left her skin to fix her tunic back into place. And then his strong arms were around her once more, but this time he lifted her, so she was sitting across his lap, head tucked against his shoulder as he slowly ran his fingers through her hair. His other arm wrapped around her waist, but it wasn't invasive or searching, it just rested there with a comforting pressure.

It might've been reminiscent of how one would comfort a small child, but Rey didn't mind; she'd never known this kind of empathy before and she welcomed it hungrily, for on Jakku she hadn't just been starved for food, but affection as well.

She didn't realize that she was crying, albeit quietly, until he started speaking.

"Rey, it's okay…it's okay… I'm sorry, I…."  
"It's not your fault" she mumbled into his chest. "You didn't do anything wrong, not really…. I should be the one apologizing, not you."

"No, I shouldn't have… I got carried away… I think sometimes, I forget how young you are."

How could he be so understanding, how could he be this kind and at the same time be the ruthless, masked, lightsaber wielding killer of the First Order. Kylo Ren was a web of contradictions, hot and cold, dangerous, and protective. She was coming to see that, although with her it seemed that he was content to show her kindness, to offer her safety and comfort – ever since that second and last attempt to retrieve the map he'd shown her nothing but honest care.

And she wanted to believe in him, she wanted to believe that the safety she felt wrapped up in his arms was real because it was more than she'd ever had before. She'd only known Finn and Han for a moment, and she'd never met the Resistance – she had no ties to them and no wish to join their side and fight the losing battle against the First Order. That left Jakku as her other option and frankly, she'd take the Resistance over going back to that desert graveyard any day. Sure, she might be out of her element here, but she also wasn't starving, scavenging for parts, or fighting off unwanted propositions. Because Kylo Ren definitely did not count as an 'unwanted proposition', no he was a lot more than that – even if she wasn't ready to say it out loud, she could admit that much to herself.

Then there was that bit about her age which had her naturally curious side wondering how old he was, because how much older was he to chalk up her reaction, at least in part, to her age? Now didn't really seem like the time to ask though, considering she was kind of falling apart, leaving tear tracks down his chest. No, she'd file that inquisition away for later, for now though she wanted, with an unrecognizable need, to make sure he knew that he knew this was about her and not him.

She sucked in a breath, and did her best to wipe the tears that she still cursed for falling down her cheeks. "It's just that I…well, umm I"- _Kriff_

"You don't have to say it," he was murmuring the words into her hair, his chin now resting softly against her head, "I understand and no, I'm not mad."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Oh."

Was that really how she saw him? Did she really believe him so awful that he would be angry with her for being uncomfortable? The silent worry on her part had echoed through his mind as she cried against his chest and he had to admit it stung. No, he had no right to get upset with her and truth be told, he went too far and he knew it. He wasn't about to bring it up in conversation, but he'd completely let slip what he'd seen during their shared dream.

It had been filled with some of his worst and most painful memories, so he imagined that held true for Rey as well. He'd seen her there, fighting off an assault, desperately beating back against three oversized men trying to take advantage of her young age. He knew that memory haunted her and yet, he didn't even stop to think about what he was doing when he kissed her. It had been almost instinctual, the need to pull her into him, to finally taste those alluring, petal pink lips - to feel her pressed tight against him.

It was too much too fast for Rey, and well, probably himself as well if he really thought about it. He wasn't about to push her into sleeping with him and he wanted her to know that, to know that he would never force her. He might have blood on his hands, but he'd never force her to be with him, not like that. The mere thought sickened him and the idea that Rey might fear him doing so cut deep – he could never be that monstrous.

"Rey?"

"Yes?" she was getting a hold of herself now, the tears had stopped, and her voice was almost steady.

"I need you to understand that I will never hurt you again and…" he hesitated, wincing with the difficulty of saying the next words because he wished that he didn't need to, he wished that he didn't have to assure her that she was safe with him.

"I know you would never force me Kylo."

 _What?_ He hadn't actually said the words, he'd been _hesitating_ to say them and yet, she'd relieved him of their burden as if she'd clearly heard his every thought. She sounded sure and confident in that statement too, like she really did believe in and trust him. The relief that brought him was great, knowing that she felt at least somewhat safe with him.

She was fidgeting in his arms now though and he realized that he'd just been holding her there in silence for a while now and maybe it was getting a little awkward. So, he gently lifted her back up off his lap, so she was sitting on the bed once more, before standing up to face her.

It was about time for a topic switch he thought, and the emptiness in his stomach seemed to agree – the low rumble echoing in the silent room provided evidence of such. She giggled then, and the amusement on her face spoke nothing of the tears that had been there just minutes before. He was glad to see her finding some happiness, even if he did send a scowl her way.

"Are you hungry?"

"Not really, but it sure sounds like you are." She replied with a cheeky grin. And it seemed as though his attempt at a diversion worked because now she was taking in the room and it's furnishings, a slightly confused look on her face as she asked,

"Did you, uh, redecorate?"

He had to laugh then because yes, this room did look almost exactly like his own – everything was laid out the same, bar the pedestal holding Vader's ruined helm, other than that the only difference was the color. While his quarters were done in blacks and greys, these were in the color of light sands and the soft blue of morning skies. It was understandable that she thought this was his room, especially considering he'd carried her here while she was asleep, but it was still humorous.

"What?"

"This isn't my room Rey, it's yours."

"I have a room?"

"Rooms, to be exact – the layout is the same as my own. I had them prepared for you after Starkiller." And maybe that sounded a little creepy, so he mentally crossed his fingers that she wouldn't see it that way.

"I suppose that explains why you came from the hall looking like," she gestured haphazardly at him, "that. But why now? Why'd you bring me here instead of the cell?"

He was a little miffed at that question, finding it hard to believe that she'd still think he'd take her back to the cell. Not likely after what happened last time she was in there, and besides, he'd never planned to keep her there – from the moment they'd returned from the crumbling planet he knew he wanted her as an ally or at least, not an enemy.

"This was really the first opportunity I suppose," and he thought about it for a minute, "I also needed to know I could trust you – because, while you aren't free to roam the ship, there's a lot less security around you now."

"And how do you know you can trust me?" she asked, an inquisitive glint in her eyes, and a wry smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth.

"Well I didn't mean it as a test at the time, but when I left you alone in the training room I also left it unlocked and unguarded. Considering that I found you curled up, asleep and under my cloak no less, I assumed that you didn't even think about escaping."

A flush crept over her cheeks then as her eyes fell to the bed and she realized that the black blanket she had been wrapped in before their make-out session was in fact, not a blanket at all.

"I'm going to need that back by the way."

"Uhh yea sure." She said as she quickly gathered the fabric from beside her and all but threw it at him, "maybe you could find a shirt too." She added, that adorable blush still painting her cheeks as she avoided his gaze. It was all quite amusing to him, and only served to remind him how young and innocent she was. Still, he couldn't deny the attraction he felt for this girl.

"I'll consider it." He was grinning now, something he hadn't done for a long time, "What do you want to eat?"

"You're the one that's hungry, you pick…besides I wouldn't even know where to start."

He tried to put the bleak message behind her words out of his mind as he keyed in an order on a now brightly lit panel. He turned back to her, gesturing at the device,

"I didn't get the chance to explain before, which is why the droids brought you your meals, but now, since you're here, you can order food whenever you want from this panel. There's a pretty large selection, and it changes throughout the day."

"Okay."

They'd eaten breakfast and Kylo had informed Rey of what she could do and where she could go before making his way to the bridge. Their rooms were side by side in a private corridor only accessible to himself, his Knights, and Hux. The General was dead by his hand and none of the Knights were currently on board, so Rey was free to go between her suite and the training room, which also stemmed off the private hall, as she pleased.

He'd also given her run of the small library he kept on the condition that if she could get the door open, she could read whatever she found within. The smaller room was only accessible through manipulation of the force, the entrance guarded by locks with no visible panels that could only be opened by physically moving the mechanisms hidden within the durasteel frame. It was a sort of test for her; he was curious to see how well she could utilize the force. Obviously, she was strong, considering the fact that the only marks left on his skin from Snoke were the three characteristic scars he'd had for years. Still he wanted to know what she could do, and he also wanted to train her, but if he could get her interested and wanting to learn first it would go so much better, he knew.

He figured if she got the door open she'd be pretty satisfied with herself and would want to know more. And if she managed to find the few Jedi texts he'd stolen from the academy that would probably peak her interest even more. He might be allied with the dark, but that didn't mean the Jedi had nothing to teach, and he wouldn't begrudge her the chance to learn from them, especially considering her strong connection to the light. Other than that, there were a number of books recounting historic events focusing mainly on times of war.

Considering her Jakku background, Kylo had been a little surprised when she responded to his inquiry about whether or not she liked reading with such enthusiasm. There was part of him that immediately worried that she couldn't read as soon as he'd asked the question and he'd cringed inwardly, wanting to hit himself for being so stupid. But then an almost gleeful expression had stolen her features and she'd been quick to explain that she'd taught herself to read on an old data pad she'd found and restored. _It wasn't good for much, but I'd spend hours reading stories on the HoloNet, when I wasn't scavenging that is,_ she'd said, and it was clear that the skill was a source of pride for her. It was another polarizing aspect of her past that reminded him of how different the worlds they came from were.

Leia Organa had sent him to the best school's money could buy – until he was expelled for 'behavioral issues' - on his homeworld of Chandrila before he was sent away to his uncle's academy. It was a source of bitterness for him, because in being so close to the Senate, his mother was always gone and always working.

He was shuffled between nannies constantly because once they saw an arbitrary object floating through the air they ran – never to be seen again. Then there was his father, it hadn't been long after his force abilities started to manifest that Han Solo promptly took up his smuggling career full time once more, only showing up every couple of months for a day or two. Looking back, he knew that it took it's toll on his mother, but he'd been young and too impressionable to really notice.

He grew up in a world of wealth and opulence, she in a desolate wasteland riddled with remnants of the past where the only hope was that your find would earn you a portion, if you were lucky that is. So different were their beginnings but, as he'd come to realize, their minds, their emotions and motives – they were more similar than he cared to admit.

He'd arrived at the bridge by now and the officers and grunts of the First Order scurried to and fro, conducting their duties – avoiding his masked gaze and steering well clear of his path. He might be willing to let Rey _see_ him but that didn't mean the scared glances and nervous twitches of his subordinates didn't bring him pleasure. It had been a long time in the making, too many years of insults, rumours, and unwarranted hatred because of a heritage and disposition he did not choose. He embraced it now though, revelled in it even – and if they wanted to hate him for it – fine, but they would fear him too.

He smirked slightly, a gesture known only to himself, before silently reminding himself that he wasn't just here to look over the men and women of the First Order.

She'd made a beeline for his secret library as soon as she heard him leave the corridor. It hadn't taken him long at all to return to his quarters and don his characteristic black outfit, complete with surcoat, mask and gloves. Only a matter of minutes had passed before he was out of ear shot – she didn't want him watching her try to get the door open. He'd told her the gist of it, but said the rest was up to her to figure out and she'd been intrigued, but now, standing in front of a very locked and very thick steel panel with no locks or visible electronics, she didn't know where to begin.

Kylo had said it was locked with the force, and that the force was required to unlock it too, but she didn't have much practice in manipulating it. She'd coerced a guard, pulled the Skywalker blade through the air once and visualized the force? Or meditated on it? – whatever it was Kylo had shown her the first time in the training room – and healed his injuries with a method she barely understood – that was it . But she had to start somewhere right?

"Here goes nothing." she mumbled under her breath as she tried to emulate that state of mind from before – when she'd been able to see the living force around herself and Kylo, how it moved and changed between them – come to think of it, much the same had happened earlier when she was healing Kylo; her mind had slipped into a state where she wasn't seeing with her eyes so much as with her mind.

That was it, she needed to reach out with her mind, her feelings – to see everything and not just at face value. That familiar blue light engulfed her in it's soft wisps, floating gently through the air, outlining, drawing a picture of the world beyond her closed eyelids. And she could _see_ the locks – thick steel bars running crosswise that held the door firmly shut – and the inner mechanism that would draw them back.

Her eyes opened, and she motioned with just a flick of her wrist. Light bands rotated the inner, wheel like device and the steel beams withdrew from the insets of the door frame with a smooth hiss. The panel slid away on its own to reveal the miniature treasure trove of knowledge that lay within.

To someone like Kylo, or probably anyone on this ship she gathered, the collection here would be considered small and personal, but for Rey it was huge. There were only a few shelves but when all the books you've seen are old, burned copies lost in downed star destroyers or grease covered manuals with half the pages ripped out – well, suffice it to say that this 'small' library was much more than she'd ever seen before.

She'd taken her time, reading spine after spine, before choosing a text that, ironically enough, was completely blank. There wasn't really a reason for choosing it, not until she'd flipped through a couple pages and noticed briefly that it mentioned the force and the Jedi. That had her interest peaked enough and she'd promptly tucked the book under her arm to return to her own room, relocking the door with ease as she left.

The library and the training room were at one end of the corridor, while she and Kylo's suites – along with a number of other rooms whose purpose she didn't know – were located at the other. It was when she was about halfway on her trip back, that the door to one of those other rooms opened right in front of her and a man she'd never seen before stepped unsuspectingly into her path. It was too late to stop though, and she ran smack into him, the text falling from her arms to land with a thud on the floor. She registered his height – _taller than me for sure, but not as tall as Kylo –_ and the finely pressed First Order uniform as the impact sent them both sprawling on the hard metal floor, just inches away from each other.


	14. Chapter 14

The thin, black haired excuse for a general was no where in site on the bridge, and Kylo figured that if he were near, he'd be able to sense the man quivering in fearful anticipation. As it were, the uniformed men and women before him were avoiding his gaze yes, but obviously trying to go about their business normally – not wanting to admit their unease in his presence. He had a reputation he knew, they saw the mask and the flaming red lightsaber and a killer. There was no point trying to appear as anything else to these people who witnessed the raw finesse of his blade or his unabashed use of the force to take anything and everything he wanted.

Still, none of them had the shaken appearance of Dopheld Mitaka who should, by all accounts, be on the bridge at this time, especially considering their ever-nearing approach to the Supremacy – which was also the reason Kylo Ren deigned to make an appearance this morning. He wanted to know exactly how much time he had before he would be handing Rey off to his master, and he planned to extract that information from Mitaka every time the unease stabbed his gut until his three days were up and he could no longer avoid the situation. Other than _that,_ he had no active duties or commands, except maybe to convince Rey to join him.

Perhaps now, with the intimacy of their shared dreams and the trust he was sure she felt they had built as well, she would consider siding with him. The chances of her embracing the dark side were slim and well, she'd probably be even more hesitant to ally with the First Order itself and the destruction they had caused thus far. It was all for a reason, he knew, a cause - to make the galaxy a better place, well and truly. It wasn't just a convenient cover for power, no it was more than that. But he'd need to convince Rey of that fact, that he wasn't just a bloodthirsty executioner and that, even under all this death their aim was true.

The movement was born in the outer rim, where life is hard and then you die; poverty, slavery, hunger – all things that still existed but weren't acknowledged by the core worlds – all things they sought to abolish. The Galactic Senate talked a big game, but in the end, they still failed to distribute wealth and prosperity across the galaxy – it was always concentrated in the core with a promise for a better future in the rim that never came.

He'd seen a lot growing up so close to the Senate and it's affairs, especially with Leia Organa's heavy involvement. He saw the corruption first hand and he wanted to change it, and he was willing to use death and destruction and war in order to do so. Democracy had done nothing for people like Rey, and if he didn't know it before, he surely did now after having the stark reality of her very recent past painted so clearly in his dreams.

He hoped he could make Rey see the justification for his actions. Because if he brought her before Snoke and she couldn't accept their mission or their means then she was sure to die, and now Kylo was sure that he couldn't handle that outcome. No, everything was riding on whether or not he could convince Rey. Maybe he wouldn't have to turn her, or convince her to ally with the Order – perhaps it would be enough if he could convince Snoke that she wouldn't fight against them, that she wouldn't be a threat. That would at least be a start, he thought, considering the short time frame he had to work with.

Convince Rey to be a neutral party within the three days and then go from there, hopefully. It sounded like a pretty good idea in his head, although she still had no idea that he was taking her to Snoke. That would be an obstacle in and of itself, for would she even trust him at all after he told her? And how was he going to tell her? Because if this didn't work out she was sure to die, and he was loath to betray Snoke, in any capacity.

And there was last night, the memories they'd witnessed, the way she'd easily pulled back the covers for him as though it were second nature. She'd willingly invited him into her bed – if only to sleep, and didn't that mean she trusted him, at least a little? He found himself wanting very much for that to be true. He barely knew this scavenger girl and yet, he felt tied to her, responsible in a way that he didn't regret but rather enjoyed. For the rush her powers gave him as she channeled the force and wiped away Snoke's mark had lifted him to some higher place – for a moment he forgot everything, and everyone save for her. The unremarkable girl who'd turned out to be the most captivating thing he'd ever laid eyes on.

The heat of her skin under his hands, the brush of nails against his scalp – the feel of her small, soft mouth under his own – it was fresh in his mind, the way she felt against him. He'd come out of the healing trance seeing nothing but her; long chestnut locks flowing freely, hazel eyes that shone gold in the light and rippled with green in the dark. The sun kissed skin of her hands where they pressed against him seemed to buzz with the living force, inviting, beckoning him forward and he hadn't resisted his urge. It'd been almost primal, the sudden need to pull her in and finally taste those pink lips. There was something about her that resonated with him, clicked on a level much deeper than the surface – a similar experience, a shared understanding.

But then, she'd gone cold in his embrace and he knew why – scars – and he understood because he had his own, and a lot of them. Maybe they weren't the same as hers, but they were there, and he was more than capable of acknowledging what being so close to him, so intimate, had brought up. She was scared, and he'd seen it in her eyes then, but he didn't want her afraid of him. No matter the things he'd done or would still do, he wanted with a deep-seated need for Rey to feel safe with him, to trust him, because he'd never felt as comfortable as he had in her presence. It was odd, he had to admit to himself, that he found solace with the prisoner girl who could've been and still might be his greatest enemy.

Kylo Ren had never felt before, this attraction which plagued him now, and just that quick taste had him burning with the need for more. For to be dark is to give in to emotion, to want and desire, but if he lost control with Rey he would only push her away. He could see that growing up the way she had, made her like a sort of wild animal, an animal that had been backed into a corner and had no way out. She needed space, he decided – room to think and be – before she would ever warm to the people she perceived as hostile, before she would ever truly accept him.

Of course, he wasn't willing to let her go, not only would that solidify her position as an enemy but the backlash from Snoke would be immense – not to mention that his master would most likely give him the kill order. He was willing, more than willing in fact – to take out his uncle, but Rey? That was something he couldn't imagine doing. No, he'd have to give her space in other ways, for if he pushed her he knew that he would lose her – not that he was sure he had her in the first place that is.

His mind seemed to be tearing itself apart with ideas and the consequences of those ideas. What was the best approach? Which were the best words? When was the best time? It was aggravating to say the least and he had not yet forgotten that the new general was still missing from his post, for whatever reason he couldn't fathom, but Kylo was sure it wasn't good enough. He was getting impatient and the finely pressed suits in front of him were growing more anxious by the minute – their disdain flowing freely through the force, panicked wonderings of who was about to die punctuating the air around him.

That really was how they saw him then, a roiling mass of unpredictable violence - not that he needed the confirmation. It's not like he'd tried or wanted to be anything different, he liked the power and control that his ambiguous figure held – he revelled in it.

He wasn't even angry – annoyed at Mitaka's absence yes, but content from his encounter with Rey, kind of carefree and maybe a little light headed from the drug like force healing. Still though, answers came faster when people were intimidated, and the officers here were clearly expecting some violent display.

A sardonic smirk played at his features beneath the cold exterior of the mask as he ruthlessly stared down a rather lanky male officer heading his way. Clearly this man, who looked more a boy just out of his teens, had drawn the short stick for whatever he'd been assigned to do as Kylo currently stood in the middle of the path to the only exit. He would have to walk by him, and that less than professional shuffle and downcast gaze spoke volumes as he drew near. He took note of the Aurebesh on the poor souls' finely pressed sleeve – _power_ – perhaps then he might know where the elusive Mitaka was hiding.

"Lieutenant." His voice was low and raspy to his own ears and judging by the turning heads, it travelled throughout the entire space like some foreboding wave – he might've born the man no ill will, but they didn't know that.

The officer stopped in his tracks and turned to face him with a customary salute and greeting.

"Sir."

"Where is the general?"

"The general sir? Which one?... I"-

 _The only general on this ship you kriffing moron,_ he thought to himself, fully aware the man probably knew what he meant, and his stupidity was brought on by nerves – still, he never claimed to be patient, and he reminded the lieutenant of such with a slight constriction of his esophagus.

He was visibly sweating now, as a hand flew up to test his throat, realizing there was nothing there even though the constriction persisted.

"General Mitaka. Where is he?" _and I suggest you that you don't make me ask again,_ he added the silent persuasion in the unsuspecting officers mind.

He choked slightly as he nodded with wide and slightly frantic eyes, "The general spent the morning moving into his new quarters, he should be finishing up soon."

"Very well," and he released the lieutenant who coughed a little in his wake, as he turned and left the bridge, gliding away without a second glance at the many, barely concealed stares he was receiving.

What was this about new quarters for Mitaka? Not that he cared to know where the newly made general was taking up residence next but –

 _Fuck_

The first thought to enter Rey's mind was that she'd run into General Hux, somehow alive after being carved in two. Everything about the man across from her – polished boots, finely pressed uniform, the characteristic hat – matched the man in her nightmares, except for his features that was.

Dark hair instead of red, brown eyes instead of blue – a bewildered and surprisingly non-threatening look that she never would have expected to see on Hux's face. No, she told herself – it wasn't him, he was dead and so were the stormtroopers that had…

This man was someone different, but then again it didn't change much – he was a First Order officer and no matter what Kylo did or how he explained the situation, she was a prisoner. A prisoner seemingly walking freely through the most secure corridor on the Finalizer – a fact that Kylo had assured her of before he left.

 _Great._

The unknown man was picking himself up and she found herself unable to move. She hated herself for the sudden bout of fear that pierced through her, the flash of phantom pain and bloody reminders just behind her eyes. She'd been in plenty of dangerous situations back on Jakku, many that this encounter couldn't even hope to compare to – but her limbs still wouldn't move.

She gulped air, mentally yelling at herself for not doing anything – knowing full well that Kylo wasn't nearby and she needed to move. He'd told her no one else had access to this hall, that she could move freely without worry – clearly that wasn't the case, and chances were this officer wouldn't take to kindly to her presence. For she was dressed in casual, civilian clothes aboard a warship, with no excuse or story to provide in explanation.

But his face when he looked down at her wasn't menacing, in fact he looked rather calm – as if he expected this might happen. A hand extended towards her and she scooted back across the floor – her flight reaction finally kicking in, but he didn't follow her like she expected.

"It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you."

 _Well not without a fight you aren't_ , Rey thought to herself, eyeing the man up and down. The fear was steadily being replaced by something else – raw, survival instinct. Her blood was pumping as she mentally gauged her chances of making it back to her room before he could draw the regulation blaster that glistened at his hip. But then again, he was pretty skinny and not too much taller than her, so maybe she'd be able to incapacitate him – buy time till Kylo came back. She wasn't bound at the wrists and ankles this time – she wouldn't just lie down and take a beating – or a blaster shot to the head for that matter.

He was still standing there, not making a move – no indication of the ill intent she was sure he bore her on his face. He said he wouldn't hurt her, but that was a ploy wasn't it? Keep her from striking out at him, right?

He sighed, obviously uncomfortable and that struck Rey as rather odd, for if anyone should be uncomfortable it was her.

"Look, I know who you are, and I have no intention of hurting you." A pause and then, "believe me, I value my life and I'd rather not be cut in half."

Huh. Well, Rey supposed that was believable – she didn't know how often actual members of the First Order were on the receiving end of Kylo's blade but clearly this man was fully aware of what happened to Hux. His statement was too on the nose to deduce anything else. And he was still holding his hand out, having closed the distance she put between them again – was he offering to help her up? She had to admit this conversation would be a lot less awkward if she weren't sitting on the cold metal floor with him staring down at her. And yeah, weird as it was she actually found herself believing this guy meant what he said. There was nothing remotely like Hux in the way he talked or carried himself, there were no insidious waves rolling of him. Overall, he seemed pretty normal, at least as normal as one of these officers could be she supposed – that and his reluctance to piss off Kylo, well – Rey was a survivor and looking at the figure before her she knew he wouldn't stand a chance if Kylo chose to kill him.

With all that in her head she found herself placing a hand in his and he quickly pulled her to her feet, before immediately gaining distance again.

"So, if you're not going to drag me off to a cell then why are you here? What are you doing?... he said no one else had access to this hall." And she didn't need to specify who _he_ was – it hung thick and obvious in the air around them. She'd regained her composure and was now staring down the intruder as if she herself owned the place – as if he were the foreign object on this ship.

"Ah, well, I was settling into my new quarters." And he indicated the door from which he'd recently emerged.

"What?"

"I was recently… promoted. This room comes with the job."

 _And what job put you next door to Kylo Ren?_ Rey thought. What level of clearance did one have to have to even get in here in the first place.

"And what is your job? Why were you promoted?" She was asking a lot of questions of this man who held all the cards she knew – treading on dangerous ground. She was getting cocky and it wouldn't be too long before her assertive and rather unfriendly demeanor reared its head. Jakku wasn't a friendly place – you didn't survive on kindness and caring, and her raw, unadulterated lifestyle had been buried beneath all this change and happenstance for too long. If she wasn't careful, she was going to say, or do, something that she would regret. One call and this guy could probably have a battalion of stormtroopers at his side. Perhaps she should consider herself lucky that he'd been amiable so far and stop acting like she wasn't a prisoner, albeit in a very good living situation.

"I replaced"-

But his words were abruptly cut off with an ugly gasp of breath as he was thrown into the nearby wall, hands frantically flitting around his bare throat and eyes wide with fear.

"General Mitaka, I've been looking everywhere for you."

She'd been so caught up in the situation at hand that she hadn't felt as he approached, but now his presence was loud and clear – angry and dangerous. Kylo stood at the other end of the impressive corridor, fully clad in his black regalia and trademark mask and Mitaka was suspended against the wall beside her, struggling for air. She could hear the hiss of his heavy breaths through the helm like some desert serpent as if he'd ran here – and maybe he had.

It was more like righteous fury rolling off of him, clearly palpable in the currents of the force, than anger or hatred. Rey didn't know what was going on, but Kylo was clearly pissed – and he'd called the struggling figure before her a general. General Mitaka had started talking about replacements and he was, for all intents and purposes, Kylo's new neighbour – not to mention hers.

 _He's the new Hux,_ Rey realized as Kylo swept forward and she instinctively took a step back. It wasn't away from him but the deceptively friendly officer who was in no position at all to harm her. He didn't look like he could harm her – but she was wary all the same. But with her eyes trained on the dark figure closing distance she all but forgot the choking sound as she took in the sight before her.

It hadn't been long at all, but the last time she'd seen him it was shirtless and barefoot in loose pants – his hair still tousled both from sleep and her hungry fingers. There was something about knowing what he looked like underneath it all – seeing him powerful and dangerous in full gear, but knowing the vulnerable and relatable person underneath. She couldn't help the blush that burned across her cheeks as she replayed that morning in her mind; sure, she'd ended up in tears, but the sensation of being wrapped in his arms, his mouth against hers – it was incredible.

And then he was right in front of her, and she was mentally shaking her head to clear _those_ thoughts – hoping that the blush wasn't noticeable. It seemed he was ignoring the general for the moment as he brought a gloved hand to her shoulder in an attempt at comfort, before quickly withdrawing as if he'd touched something disgusting.

"Did he hurt you?" he asked, the sound harsh and brittle through the mask but she could tell he was being sincere, despite her confusion at his sudden reluctance to touch her.

"No, I'm fine… we just ran into each other… literally."

That seemed to be confirmation enough for him as his hidden gaze swiveled back to the suspended Mitaka. "Go back to your room Rey, the General and I have some business to discuss," was all he said before replacing his force choke with his own gloved hand, the leather that had been gentle on her own skin biting menacingly into Mitaka's neck.

He seemed to spit his words, the sound harsh and metallic as he questioned, "What are you doing here? You shouldn't have access."

"Leader…Hux…quarters"- he struggled to speak under the crushing pressure.

Rey only caught bits and pieces from where she stood, not having moved an inch despite Kylo's request. This was violent and unnecessary, she thought – she wasn't naïve about what the people in the First Order were capable of, but the general didn't do anything to warrant this – not that she knew of at least. This was his darkness, the power and control that he reveled in – this is what scared her.

"Kylo wait, let him go! He didn't do anything."

He dropped his gaze to meet hers, a questioning tilt to his head the only indication that he was questioning her – why was she still there? Why should he let him go?

"Please, at least hear him out first – there's probably a good explanation." She said the words with vehemence, even if she didn't really believe them. It was hard to believe that a First Order general and Hux's replacement no less, had shown up as soon as she was alone, in a completely secluded place with no ill intentions. But Rey valued life – hers and others – she couldn't stand by and watch Kylo torture and probably kill this man who hadn't actually done anything.

Rey was staring him down, having not left when he told her too – which, while a source of annoyance, was also kind of refreshing. Currently, she was the only one on this ship who'd even dare to defy him – or tell him off for that matter. She was serious in her request too, that much was obvious as he studied her, mostly curious as to why she wanted to defend Mitaka.

He'd come storming in here, after practically sprinting back from the bridge when he realized where Mitaka was. There hadn't even been time to feel embarrassed over the instant worry he felt for Rey, for he'd given her free reign of the hall. It had started out as fear – imagining another scene like the one with Hux and his stormtroopers – but had quickly morphed to a burning rage with every step he took towards her.

He understood perfectly well why Mitaka was here, that he replaced Hux and now everything that belonged to the sadistic general now belonged to him – including his private quarters. But Mitaka didn't need to know that, so he questioned his presence because he was pissed that he hadn't been filled in, pissed that he hadn't thought of it before and pissed that he let Rey wander freely and consequently she'd run into Mitaka.

But her eyes were pleading with him and while he wanted to take his embarrassment and frustration out on this man, he knew it wouldn't end well for him. If Rey didn't kill him, Snoke surely would – two generals in two weeks was probably going overboard. So, he released his grip – both physically and in the force and the shorter man instantly slumped to the floor, gulping air.

Rey moved from her place beside him, probably to help the fallen man but he caught her wrist and drew her back. He shook his head slightly when her gaze turned to him, questioning, before quickly removing his hand and ending the contact. She didn't need to help him, and Kylo didn't want her to want to help him.

With the connection broken he turned his attention back to Mitaka,

"Explain."

"Leader Snoke requested the change yesterday. Sir." Mitaka had recovered enough to speak, albeit shakily, as he pulled himself from the floor to face Kylo. He wasn't cocky or arrogant like Hux though, he was subdued and respectful – exactly what Kylo wanted. He definitely did not need another Hux to deal with.

 _Of course he did,_ Kylo thought. Because what better way to keep an eye on his apprentice than by putting another new lap dog in his immediate vicinity, night and day. Considering that, it wasn't too far of a stretch to assume that Snoke was fully aware that Rey was no longer locked in a cell and that she would also be steps away from his new general. It grated on Kylo's nerves, how obvious this was Snoke's doing – the act that he wouldn't even have peace of mind that Rey would be safe in the short time until he had to meet his master – until Rey had to meet him.

"And what of the girl?" he asked.

"She is safe. I have no intention of causing her harm, nor do I have any order to Sir." He was telling the truth Kylo knew, the honesty clear in his mind.

"He did say that – before you got here I mean." And that was Rey speaking now, jumping into what was probably the weirdest conversation he'd had in a while. The prisoner slash guest that he'd shared a bed with, among other things – the replacement for a general he carved in two little over a week ago – and himself, masked and brooding as usual; it was almost comical he thought. Maybe it would be, if he weren't so quick to anger all the time.

"Hmm. Dopheld was it? No one else is to be given access to this corridor without my explicit permission. Now leave us." He supposed he would hunt the general down again later for an update on their progress. For now, his attention was on Rey, whom he turned to once Mitaka had quickly hurried away.

"Come." And maybe that sounded a little cold, but he could only do so much with the contraption on his head. Nevertheless, she followed him as he led the way to his quarters, only pausing briefly to retrieve the text on the floor.

"Why would you do that!?" and she was yelling at him now even though she wasn't really angry. No, she'd had that moment of fear on seeing Mitaka, but then she'd felt kind of sorry for him, seeing him pinned against the wall like that. And then there'd been a little more fear as she felt the pleasure the other man's pain seemed to give Kylo. She'd felt it. He'd been enjoying himself even as he furiously questioned the newly minted general.

And now that swell of emotions was manifesting itself in anger, because maybe she was disappointed that this man who'd held her so tenderly just hours before could be so cruel. Maybe it wasn't even that, maybe it was the way he'd recoiled after a split second of contact – through clothes and leather gloves to boot. Yes, that was it – she was offended, and she was using the general's poor timing as an excuse to vent without showing what was really bothering her.

"Why are you defending him! He's Hux's replacement and he lives across the hall. You realize that means Snoke's personal lapdog is just steps away from you – at all times!" he was getting angry now too, his flushed cheeks now visible having discarded his helm haphazardly on the divan.

"He didn't do anything, and you nearly killed him!"

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips as he ran a hand through his thick hair and she could've kicked herself for noticing that the tousled style was even more attractive than before. When had she even started looking?

 _Stay focused Rey, you're mad at him._ and that mental thought sounded pathetic in every corner of her brain. It definitely wasn't convincing enough for her to stop admiring the way his clean cut black outfit complimented his lean, yet muscled figure.

He stepped towards her then, some unknown emotion swimming in his eyes, and she took a step back. They continued the game until she'd backed into the wall and he was towering over her. She held his gaze, refusing to back down from this fight.

"Look Rey I"- a million different expressions flitted across his face as he started to speak, and a gloved hand reached out, as if to cup her face. But at the last moment it fell, and his features may as well have turned to stone as he whirled away from her.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, come I'll return you to your room."

Cold. Devoid of emotion. She wasn't expecting that response, as though he'd never been angry in the first place, shutting down their argument and any form of conversation for that matter. Distant too, he'd been surprisingly open earlier and gentler than she could ever imagine anyone being, especially him, but now his words were harsh and final. Maybe he was hiding something, but then again there was probably a lot she didn't know, she was still a prisoner after all. And then there was the 'return you' comment, as though she were some borrowed artifact. What was that about? And again, he'd recoiled from her as though he didn't want to touch her.

Rey realized that the intimacy of that morning was, at the end of the day, just a kiss – but it was more than she'd ever had. Intense, pleasurable, and frightening all at the same time – she didn't really know what to make of it just yet, but if his actions now were any indication then it was probably terrible. At least for him that is, Rey had never felt the way she had, wrapped in his strong embrace, before in her life – but he was avoiding any and all contact. Did he not enjoy it? Maybe she was just bad at this and maybe she'd completely turned him off. She supposed that meant she wouldn't have to worry about him wanting anything more from her but that thought was met with a wave of disappointment the moment it entered her mind.

Confused is what she felt for sure as she numbly followed him back to her room, not bothering with a reply. Did she want more then? Maybe, she decided. What they'd done earlier surely felt good – amazing even. But Kylo, well he didn't seem too interested anymore – he'd gone from attentive caresses to reserved and curt in the space of hours. He was an enigma, and she was his prisoner and Rey had no idea what to do about that.

He'd killed people. Tortured people without remorse or care and more often than not it felt good. It was a rush to give in to darkness, to let his demons take control and vent the way a dark-sider was meant to. But Rey, a single flash of hurt in her eyes at his words and he instantly felt guilty. She'd trusted him and now he was being cold, distant he knew – it was on purpose – and her reaction to it affected him more than the deaths of an entire village. It was infuriating that he couldn't keep up his image, the devilish persona known across the galaxy, in front of her.

The last thing he wanted to do was ice her out too, every moment he spent with her the attraction grew, but he'd never been good at control. That morning should have earned him a trophy, but he knew that if he let himself in – he wouldn't want to stop, and he might take too much – he might hurt her. Keeping Rey at arms distance would be better in the long run for her he knew, and he wondered just when he'd come to care so much. But he already knew of course, whether he'd ever admit it to himself of not, all bets were off the moment he'd recognized her in that forest on Takodana. Her face wasn't new to him then, no, he'd known her in the force; Takodana was just the moment he realized that it was all real.

He could do this. Refuse himself his desires, because while he wouldn't be able to protect Rey from Snoke, he could at least protect her from himself.

He'd walked Rey back to her room and then left without so much as a word. Now he was in what was once Hux's office, but now belonged to Mitaka, in order to finish their earlier 'conversation'. There were some things he didn't want Rey to hear, mainly their impending visit with Snoke.

Everything was on schedule, the general told him, his voice now recovered from the earlier incident as he met the dark-sider's hooded gaze evenly. It was fairly impressive, Kylo had to admit, that this man still held his posture and was able to look back at him without so much as a flinch.

Perhaps he underestimated him, and while this behavior would have come off as arrogant from Hux, it radiated professionalism and even a silent respect in Mitaka. He skimmed the surface of the general's mind and found nothing of concern, just what he had already deduced; there was a healthy amount of fear, a drive to fulfill his role, and even some admiration – that was interesting, so he dug a little deeper.

He stopped fishing at the first twitch of Mitaka's jaw, but it was enough. He'd followed that admiration and it led to a thread of similar thought – the intense need to protect someone. Mitaka was impressed by how quickly he'd showed up for Rey, how he hadn't hesitated and how he'd listened to her. Somehow this man was fully aware his fury earlier had all stemmed from Rey – because he knew the feeling, even if he wasn't a powerful force user. Quick flashes of some unknown woman, a small child – a budding family, accompanied the thoughts.

"My wife and daughter."

"You're married?"

"Five years now sir."

Huh. He hadn't been expecting that. Mitaka had a family, of course many of the officers probably had families of some sort, but to know that Mitaka sensed in him a similar drive was unprecedented. He understood, immediately, Kylo's endeavour to protect Rey from him as he recognized the behavior, the fierce and sudden fury, in himself. While he may not be in a position to vocalize or physically act on his fears like Kylo – the worry for the safety of his wife and daughter were the foremost thoughts in his mind in this time of war.

The general in front of him hadn't even tried to resist his intrusion but offered the information almost willingly. Maybe he realized it would be futile to resist, and maybe it was something else. Oddly enough, just knowing this piece of intel on Mitaka made him a little more bearable, in fact Kylo found himself wanting to ask this man some questions – but he held his tongue. It wouldn't exactly maintain his stolid front if he started asking for relationship advice. But he already knew some of it, didn't he? It had been clear in his mind that he already assumed this dark-sider cared about the scavenger - about Rey. But he wouldn't know the conflict Kylo was dealing with; trying not to act on his urges, denying his need to touch her again – to feel her body against his once more. If he gave in a little, he'd give in completely he knew – and that would only rip her away from him in the end.

He was a little miffed at this predicament for never before had he cared so much about what another thought of him – besides his own family, but that was a long time ago. So quickly had his motivations been swamped with thoughts of Rey, the girl who had attracted him even while ragged and dirty, and set his nerves on fire with just a sliver of contact. He'd settle for just having her within reach, if it meant her trust. That was a first too; wanting someone to believe in and trust him, to see that he was more than an executioner.

"Sir?" Mitaka spoke up and he realized that he'd been lost in his thoughts for quite some time.

"Mitaka, I imagine you understand what it is to want to keep someone safe – at any cost," the general was nodding now, "You will treat Rey as my personal guest and you will permit no one else entry to the upper suites without my confirmation. She is free to move around as she pleases, so long as she remains within the hall and… Mitaka, if any harm should come to her…"

"I understand sir. You need not say anymore."

If he weren't wearing the helm, Mitaka would be looking at his squinted, scrutinizing gaze. As it were the shorter man was looking into darkness, he knew. Kylo searched his face for emotion, his mind for thoughts and found honesty and comprehension, but underneath it all – a slight thread of…righteous indignation – for he got the message; Kylo might not get away with dispatching another general, but his family wasn't guaranteed that safety should he decide to cross him.

"Of course," he added as he turned to leave the office, "I would prefer not to kill anyone."

The door slid shut in his wake, separating the two men with an echoing hiss.

He'd left almost as soon as he'd came, and she'd sat stewing in her rooms for the better part of the day, eyes skimming over the text she'd brought back with her. Rey was intrigued by this power she had and could wield, she wanted to learn more but every time she tried to study the droll words her mind drifted back to him. One kiss, that was all, and now she couldn't get him out of her head. In her defense he'd been in her head for years – but never in _that_ way.

But he'd seemed cold, withdrawing from touching her and her mind was wrestling with these thoughts and questions once more. She hated that it bugged her so much, that he'd gotten under her skin and she kept wondering the same things over and over but never receiving any answers. Maybe she'd messed up, freezing on the spot like that – because now, just hours later, she craved the feel of him and wished she'd pushed through her fear and hesitation. He was magnetic, she felt irrevocably drawn to him and while it confused her and scared her, she wanted nothing more than to give in.

But it would seem that he didn't feel that way about her. He'd acted as though touching her were repulsive when before he'd had his hands all over her. What had she done? It was eating at her, strong and independent Rey of Jakku seemingly brought low by this dangerous and unconventionally handsome force wielder.

Her eyes found the same line for the tenth time, _there is no emotion, there is peace_ , and she snorted. From the few words she'd actually paid attention to, she'd deduced the book was written by a Jedi and well, if that's what they believed then she didn't want any part of their dogma. For she felt everything and anything but peace. There'd never really been peace for her – except maybe in those moments when the desert storms blocked out the sun and stole her senses; the world would darken as the howl of the wind encased her mind and for a few, brief seconds she'd forget everything. No longer was she in the desert or alone; she was floating, without a care, as if the wind had picked her up and carried her away on its breeze. And then it would be over, back to the ground, she would come crashing down and everything she'd blocked out would flood back in. Those were the worst times, when the utter realization of her situation would set in again, harder, and more ruthless than before.

She all but threw the book at the light wood end table beside the sofa; it was much like the one in Kylo's suite, even placed under a similar viewscreen, but infinitely more comfortable. For that at least, she was grateful; a week on Kylo's divan had left her feeling much older than her age, this sofa though was soft to the touch, cushioned the body and was, in stark comparison, an elegant white.

The sigh that escaped her was heavy with contempt as she pulled herself out of the room, she needed to move, to work off some of these emotions clouding her mind – and probably her judgment.

She set to work as soon as she stepped into the training room, choosing again the quarterstaff that Kylo had presented to her the day before, and taking her frustrations out on a practice dummy. It wasn't long before she was imagining his dark spectre in it's place – every hit felt like a question as she screamed her frustration out. Why her? How did she end up in this position? A lonely scavenger turned force sensitive prisoner of the First Order with a burning attraction to their number one warrior – the immeasurable wielder of the dark side of the force – Kylo Ren.

She went until she felt ready to collapse, at which point she silently returned to her rooms, showered, and crawled into the oversized and very comfortable bed. She hadn't seen or heard from Kylo since that morning and she'd had to hold herself back from knocking on his door. He was probably just busy, he had some sort of actual job to do after all, right? Something other than showing up in battle every now and then to scare the masses into line and turn the tide of the fight.

Rey was exhausted and that was probably the only reason she managed to finally shut her mind off, forcing all those thoughts and questions out of her mind and quelling the burning desire in her center that Kylo had managed to stoke. She wasn't going to think about him or the First Order, at least for tonight; a peaceful, dreamless sleep is what Rey hoped for as her eyes finally drooped closed under their own weight.


End file.
